Finding Home
by Ziva- Zia- Z
Summary: He's the American Ambassador's son. She, the oldest daughter of the Deputy Director of Mossad. They spend one night together- until her father rips them apart. Years later, she goes to America, only to find the boy she remembered all grown up. When they finally see each other, will it be a happy reunion? & what happens when he discovers the secret she was forced to hide?
1. Chapter 1

**Finding Home **

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

**Summary: He was the American Ambassador's son. She was the oldest daughter of the Deputy Director of Mossad. After an encounter at an embassy dinner, they find themselves spending one night together- until her father rips them apart. Years later, she goes to America as a Mossad officer, only to find the boy she remembered all grown up. When they finally see each other again, will it be a happy reunion? And what happens when he discovers the secret she was forced to hide? **

_Tel Aviv, Israel_

_1996_

He refused to look up from his book. It was just another embassy dinner, where his parents dressed up like the rest of those who worked at the embassy and the various Israeli heads of state and had dinner and danced and talked politics. Typical.

Sighing, he turned another page in his book, and only glanced up when he heard his sister's laughter. Sarah was certainly enjoying herself, dancing with the normally stern Deputy Director of Mossad, who, for once, had a smile on his face as he twirled the thirteen-year-old around on the dance floor. He couldn't help but smile. At least one of them was having fun. Slowly, he turned another page in his book.

"I was not finished yet."

He turned, jumping in surprise to see the dark-haired beauty behind him, reading over his shoulder. He dropped the book, grabbing the stitch in his chest. She grinned, tossing her hair over her shoulder as he narrowed his eyes.

Ziva David, Deputy Director David's seventeen-year-old daughter.

The thorn in his side from the moment they'd arrived in Israel. Sure, she was seventeen, he was eighteen, there was supposed to be attraction there, but he could safely say all he felt for her was annoyance. She followed him everywhere, asking question after question about America; what it was like to go to an actual college that you chose yourself, if Hollywood actors really wore sunglasses whenever they were outside on the street, what Christmas trees looked like when they were lighted, or what spare ribs with barbecue sauce tasted like. Clearly, her father kept a tight leash on the young woman. A leash that would soon be her downfall, if she wasn't careful.

They'd only officially met once, when their parents met at the embassy that first day after getting off the plane. Then, it had been a quick introduction before his father dragged the family to their apartment. Tim hadn't really thought much of her since. Unless she pursued him like she had a habit of doing. Asking ridiculous questions and never giving him a moment's peace. When that happened, he usually ignored her.

"What do you want, Ziva?" He knelt down, grabbing the book. She leaned further over the chair as he sat back up; her voice was soft as she purred,

"Come with me. We will go get coffee and get away from here." He met her gaze, before glancing back at the rest of the guests. A moment passed, before he turned back to her.

"Coffee? At this time of night?" She shrugged.

"I know a small café that is open all night. There is also a bookstore attached to it."

That caught his attention. He stood, glancing back at his parents, before following her to the coat closet. They grabbed their coats, and silently snuck out the back, grasping hands as they rushed through the dark streets of Tel Aviv. By the time they reached the small café and bookstore, both were out of breath, but enjoying their brief freedom.

* * *

><p>"Honestly, I hate that my father's ambassador. He used to actually<em> care<em> about Sarah and I. Used to come to our games, spend time with us on the weekends; now all he does is rub elbows with diplomats and other ambassadors, hoping to further his own career."

"At least your father loved you at one point. My father never has." He glanced at her. They sat on the window seat in her room, watching the stars through the glass, cups of warm coffee in their hands. They'd spent two hours at the coffee shop, talking about literature and sharing stories, before finally returning to her parents' apartment.

"I doubt that, Ziva. Every father loves his child." She shook her head.

"Not mine. My father has never loved me, nor Tali, nor Ari. I have never been his priority." She glanced down at her cup. "I am no one's priority." He reached over, laying a hand on her arm.

"You'll be your husband's priority some day. He'll love you and never let you go. He'll be lucky." She met his gaze, seeing the honesty flash before her. Then, she leaned close, taking his lips in a soft kiss.

"_Toda_, Tim." He grinned, searching her gaze for a moment before returning his mouth to hers. He drank her in, enjoying the taste of her on his lips. Slowly, he reached down, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer. His fingers moved over the soft green material of her halter dress, lifting her onto his lap as the kiss deepened. The sensible part of his brain told him to stop, that this was just some fantasy his bored mind had cooked up to deal with the embassy dinner. But the other half, the more impulsive side, screamed that this was real, that this spark, this fire raging between them had been there from the moment they first met, and that it was useless to try to deny it anymore. That this was why she'd constantly followed him around and bombarded him with questions.

That this was why he was always so annoyed with her; it was passion.

Pure, unbridled passion.

A moment passed, before he stood, pulling her to her feet and guiding her to the bed. As they tumbled among the covers and began removing clothes, he found his rational side kicking in again; he quickly shoved it back beneath the rock. The last thing he wanted was to be rational. Once they were fully nude, he pulled away, meeting her dark eyes. She nodded, giving him a soft smile before capturing his lips in a kiss.


	2. Chapter 2

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

**Thanks to Sazzita, JonnyP86, Reader and SpiritWriterXXX for reviewing 1.**

_Washington, D.C._

_2005_

He glanced up at his reflection, the water dripping off his chin. A moment passed, before he left the bathroom and headed into the bedroom. It didn't at all surprise him to see her sprawled over the entire bed, her head buried under the pillow. He had offered to take the sofa or the small guest room, but had soon found himself in the bed, holding tight to her, as she sobbed for three-quarters of the night before finally falling asleep. He didn't mind sharing the bed, but she had a habit of kicking the other occupants off in the middle of the night. A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he quickly grabbed some clothes and changed. He'd known her his whole life, and still, he was amazed at the hold she had over him; all she had to do was look up at him with those big eyes, and he'd bend to her will like the collapsing Twin Towers.

As he headed into the kitchen and started the coffee, his gaze landed on a photograph hanging on the fridge, beneath a small purple heart magnet. Taken that first year in Israel, it showed him and his little sister, then thirteen, sitting at a table outside a small café, pieces of pie in front of each of them. He was laughing at his sister, who had whipped cream on the tip of her nose.

After extracting the milk from the fridge, he set it on the small table, becoming lost in the memory. He and his little sister had essentially been babysat by the Deputy Director of Mossad's oldest and only son, Ari, then twenty-seven, had come home from England for break, where he was finishing his studies. Ari's two younger sisters, Ziva, seventeen and Talia, known as Tali, ten, had tagged along. Eventually, they'd stopped at the small café, ordered something to eat and drink, and taken seats outside in the hot Israeli sun. Ari had taken the photograph, catching not only Tim's sister with whipped cream on her nose, but his own little sister, Ziva, sneaking a bite of Tali's pie and ending up with her sister trying to smash part of Ziva's own pie in her face. Before they'd left Israel, Ari had given him the photograph, signing and dating it on the back. That had been nine years ago.

He sighed, shaking his head. He'd often wondered about what had happened to the David siblings after they'd left Israel. The only one he really knew about was Ari, because the man had been terrorizing NCIS, specifically Gibbs' team, of which he was a part of. From holding Ducky, Gerald, and Kate hostage, to trying to kill Abby, to finally murdering Kate, Ari had done everything possible to show them that he was a murdering son of a bitch; not the young man he remembered that long ago year in Israel. He'd had no word on either of the David girls, but knowing them, they most likely ended up in the Israeli Army, something all young Israelis ended up joining upon reaching a certain age.

Once the coffee was done, he grabbed a couple mugs, pouring the steaming coffee into both before adding cream and sugar, just as he heard footsteps shuffle into the kitchen. "'orning." He glanced over his shoulder, chuckling softly at her as she ran her fingers through her tangled hair.

"Feeling better?" He asked, handing her the cup. She accepted it with a nod.

"Yes. Thank you." She took a sip, before saying, "Sorry about... showing up last night. I just... I didn't have anywhere else to go and... besides, you always have a way of fixing things." He chuckled, reaching up to brush a strand of hair off her cheek.

"That's what I'm here for. To fix things. And to... be a paper towel when needed." She chuckled. "Now go get dressed, you'll be late."

"I don't think I'm gonna go, if that's okay. Would it be all right if I... stayed here for today?" He thought a moment.

"Let me get this straight? You're actually going to _skip_?" She shrugged.

"I just... seeing... that_ bitch_..." He set his cup down, taking her shoulders. She didn't have to say anymore, unless he wanted to watch her burst into tears again.

"It's fine. Stay here as long as you want." She gave him a small smile.

"Thanks." He grinned, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"I have to get to work; just, try not to get into trouble, okay?" She nodded, watching as he headed into the bedroom before coming back, slipping his holstered weapon and badge into his belt before grabbing his jacket and keys. "Tell you what, we'll order pizza after I get back from work. How's that sound?" She grinned.

"Okay." She followed as he headed to the door, grabbing his arm as he pulled open the door. "Tim?" He turned back.

"What's wrong?" All she did was lean up on her toes, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"Thank you."

* * *

><p>He stepped off the elevator, coffee in hand, lost in thought until he entered the bullpen and stopped. His gaze moved to Kate's empty desk, and he felt his heart constrict. It wasn't fair, that just twenty-four hours earlier, Kate had been standing on the rooftop of that building, talking and laughing with Gibbs and Tony, and now, she lay in Autopsy, a bullet hole in her brain, the back of her head blown off. Taking a deep breath, he continued on to his desk, taking a seat and logging onto his computer, but his mind kept wandering back to the day before, the shootout with the sniper, and the clues they'd found since then. A moment passed, before he got up, making his way towards the bathroom. As he splashed water on his face once again and glanced in the mirror, Gibbs' words from the day before came floating back to him.<p>

_"DiNozzo's right. You do owe that terrorist a thank you."_


	3. Chapter 3

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

**Thanks to Tiva-McAbby-Densi-Neric-4ever and JonnyP86 for reviewing 2.**

_Be'er Sheva, Israel_

_2005_

Her eyes slowly fluttered open, the warm air caressing her face through the slightly open window. She closed them again, only to have them snap open as she sat up. Something didn't feel right. Quickly, she climbed out of bed, slipping into the hall and going towards the living room, having snagged her gun from the bedroom nightstand as she went. After a quick check of the house, she returned to her room, only to find a new occupant of her bed. She relaxed, realizing who it was, and slowly lowered her gun.

"What are you doing in here?" She quickly removed the bullets from her gun, and went to the nightstand, returning the gun to its place before climbing into the bed beside the new occupant. They didn't say anything. "Hey, look at me." Slowly, they turned to her. Gently, she reached up, brushing the hair way from those beautiful eyes, and searching his face. "What is wrong, huh? Tell me."

Instead of speaking, they burrowed into her chest. She wrapped her arms around the other person, holding them close before laying back down. It was barely eleven in the evening, and she'd finally gotten the sleep she'd so desired until this. She had spent four months away from this beautiful old house, the house she was born in, the house...

She shook the thought from her mind, returning to the matter at hand. No, there was no use in dwelling on the past, when the present was here, in her arms.

A moment passed, before she pulled away. "Hey, look at me, my angel." Slowly, she reached up, lifting the face towards her. "What is the matter? You can tell me." Silence filled the room, before they buried themselves in her chest again, asking,

"What was he like?"

Her arms moved again, wrapping tight, as she lay her cheek on the messy hair and sighed. This subject was always the most painful for her. From the moment he had been ripped from her arms, she had vowed to never forgive her father, nor his. By taking him, they had ripped out her heart; but a small piece of it had been restored when this one came into her life, but she knew that she would never be whole again until she was back with him. For good.

She lifted her head, shifting to look at the stars through the window. "He was beautiful, brilliant. Funny. He was sweet, a gentleman. I know I annoyed him, but he never complained, never raised his voice. He would tell me stories, about what it was like moving from base to base, about living in England, when his father was stationed there, and Germany, and Japan. And he had the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. I have never seen another pair like them, until you came into my life." She pulled away, looking into those same eyes with a soft smile.

"But what about your father?" She swallowed. Her father was a sensitive subject, almost as sensitive as the man she'd lost. Though she had made it clear why he refused to have nothing to do with her, it still hurt. "Does he not love us anymore?"

"Oh my angel, he never loved us. Not really." Gently, she smoothed the messy hair, sniffling.

"And him?" A small smile graced her lips.

"If he had been allowed to be here, I know he would love us both. Now come, it is late and sleep is greatly needed." As they settled down, she turned her attention back to the stars, struggling to control the tears running down her cheeks.

* * *

><p>She awoke at oh-two-hundred, her dreams colored with memories of that night he was ripped from her arms, of when she was taken from her family, of when she was forced to endure everything alone. Silently, she climbed out of bed, making sure not to wake her companion, and headed into the bathroom. She leaned against the mirror, her mind racing back to that day everything but her heritage had been ripped from her.<p>

_"You are not of our blood anymore! Do you not understand that?"_

_"Eli, she made a mistake-"_

_"I did not make a mistake, Ima-"_

_"No, you_ chose_ to defile the David name, by sleeping with an American!_ _By letting that... that boy destroy you! By giving him yourself! And now, you expect us to just turn the other cheek while you... Well, we won't, Ziva! You will not set foot in this apartment again!"_

_"Eli! She is a child! She needs us!"_

_"She did not need us that night, Rivka! Nor does she need us now! She has made that perfectly clear!"_

_"I am not asking for money, Abba. I am just asking for support, for love-" _

_"You do not know the first thing about love, Ziva!"_

_"And you do not know the first thing about family!"_

She winced, even now as she thought back on it. He had struck her hard, in front of not only her mother, but her brother as well. Rivka had had to hold Ari back, for fear Eli would strike him as well. Tali had hidden in the next room, but had seen everything. She had then grabbed the few things she'd been able to gather from her room and turned to go, when her father shoved her out of the apartment and towards the stairs. He'd then proceeded to kick the few boxes and bags she'd gathered down the stairs, before turning to her.

_"If I_ ever_ catch you around here, or talking to my children again, I will not hesitate to kill you."_

She had met his gaze, searching his face for an ounce of the love and compassion she'd seen as a child, before she'd turned to go. She'd reached the stairs faster than she expected, the wind escaping her and leaving her unable to breathe. When she'd looked up, her mother, sister and brother were beside her, helping her to her feet and gathering her things.

She'd awoken in the bedroom here not long after. Not long after graduating school, she'd joined the Army, like all young Israelis, and then joined Mossad. David was a common name in Israel, and though people made the connection, she no longer confirmed nor denied the link to the Deputy Director. For the millionth time since that night, she thought of him, of where he was now, if he was married, if he had children, if he was happy. Tears coursing down her cheeks, she stood, not for the first time wondering if she would ever get the chance to tell him of the gift he had left her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

_Washington, D.C._

He chuckled softly at the suggestion for dinner: _beef ravioli or macaroni and cheese._ Quickly he typed a response:_ spaghetti_. Minutes later, he received a tart response: _You're no fun_, which he quickly followed up with, _I'm your older brother. It's my job not to be fun._

Once their correspondence ended, he returned to his work, unaware of the young woman entering the bullpen. A quick glance gave him a glimpse of dark hair, summer tans and a small frame. As he stood, heading towards the director's office to get Gibbs to give him the latest reports on Ari, the woman reached out, grabbing his arm. "Tim."

He turned, his eyes connecting with hers. And suddenly, the world stopped. Flashes of memory moved before his eyes; quick film cuts left on the editing floor, from a summer that had both destroyed and defined his life. Afternoons in the bookstores, sitting down to formal dinners with others at the embassy, that summer afternoon at the café, when Sarah got whipped cream on her face. And that one night of unbridled passion that swept them both out of the embassy dinner and ball and back to her parents' apartment, culminating in sweet _'I love yous'_ and chaste kisses. All of it, brought back to the forefront, to find her standing before him, older, yes, but no less beautiful than when they'd first met. He struggled to breathe. "... Ziva?"

She smiled softly. "Hello, Tim." He blinked, not hearing the footsteps approaching from behind.

"Ah, Agent McGee, I see you've met our Mossad liaison, Officer Ziva David." He glanced over his shoulder at Director Shepard, before turning back to the woman in question.

"I... I've met her before, Director." He whispered, struggling to breathe. Only Ziva noticed the glances Director Shepard and the silver-haired man shared behind his back. Director Shepard quickly stepped in, for which he was grateful for.

"Hello, Ziva." Quickly, Shepard went to the woman, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. "I trust you got settled in your apartment?" Ziva nodded.

"Yes. Asher is quite excited to have be here. He has never seen America, let alone Washington, D.C., and I promised if we had time, we would go see the sights."

"Um... Asher?" Gibbs asked, raising his eyebrows. Ziva nodded, turning to Gibbs but keeping her gaze on Tim.

"Yes. Asher Malachi. My _son_."

He felt his heart plummet into his stomach. Her _son_? He quickly glanced at her hand, but he saw no ring. Not unusual in this line of work; a safer way to keep loved ones from being targeted. After giving Gibbs the information he'd found, he quickly excused himself to the bathroom. Ziva watched him go, surprised at the response she'd elicited from him.

* * *

><p>The water was cold against his skin, but he ignored the chill. He couldn't get her words out of his head, even as images of their night together all those years ago flooded his mind.<p>

_Cold kisses on hot flesh; goosebumps and warm breath; hands tangling in hair and digging into skin. The feel of her tight around him, her small, lithe body wrapped around him as they reached to their breaking point. The sounds of her sweet, wild surrender in his ear, as their eyes locked and they let their hearts take control. Soft, gentle, erotic in the gentlest of kisses and softest of caresses. Everything they wanted and needed in those few hours of erotic passion. _

She had a son. Probably a beautiful little boy, with her dark eyes and dark hair and her husband's smile. And while he'd often thought of where she was, she'd gone off and married another man, having a child with him.

"Tim?" He glanced up, finding her reflection in the mirror. She stood in front of the door, blocking his exit. He quickly grabbed a towel, drying his face before making his way to the door.

"You need to move, Ziva." She met his gaze.

"I cannot."

"And why not?" When she didn't reply, he gently moved her aside and left, heading back to his desk. She followed, stopping in the hallway leading back to the bullpen.

"It is about Asher."

"Your son? I'm sure your husband is very proud of him." He replied, trying to keep the hurt from his voice. She swallowed.

"He would be, if I had a husband." He stopped, listening. She stepped closer.

"You don't know who the father is?" He asked, glancing briefly back at her before continuing into the bullpen and towards his desk. She followed, knowing she had to play her last card carefully.

"Of course I know who his father is. I have known who he is for the last eight years." He stopped. She waited, watching as he slowly turned towards her. Something sparked in his green eyes, and she bit her lip.

"I... I'm sorry?" He stammered, confused. Slowly, he stepped towards her. "What did you say?" She tilted her head up, meeting his gaze as she longed to close the short gap between them and throw her arms around his neck and kiss him.

"I know who Asher's father is. You, Tim. You are his father." She watched as he paled and staggered back briefly, unable to catch his breath. But before she could say anything, some grabbed both of them and yanked them from the bullpen. They were soon pushed into two chairs in the conference room, and the door shut behind them, leaving them alone as Gibbs stood guard.

* * *

><p>"Jethro, we need to-"<p>

"We need to leave them alone to sort this out, Jenny." Gibbs replied, stopping her from bursting through the door.

"But-"

"This is not our problem, Director. This is theirs. Now if she's lying to him-"

"Ziva wouldn't lie."

"How do you know?" He stepped closer to her. She stood her ground.

"Because she saved my life two years ago in Cairo, Jethro. I trust her. And so should you." And then, without a word, she returned to her office.


	5. Chapter 5

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

"What do you mean that I have a son?" The words rang loud and pained in the silent room. She glanced at him, before turning her gaze back to the table they sat at. She licked her lips, struggling to find the right words to begin her tale. Taking a deep breath, she whispered,

"After your father sent you back to America, I... a week or so later, I began... I began getting sick. Throwing up, sensitive to certain smells; I bought a couple tests at the drugstore, and they both came back positive." She glanced at him, but when he didn't meet her gaze, she returned it back to the table and continued. "I was... able to hide it for a few months... and then my father found out. He blew a casket."

"Gasket." Their eyes locked for the first time, and they shared a small smile. She nodded.

"Told me that I had defiled the David name and that if I did not get rid of it, I would have no place in his home." Tears began to sting her eyes, and he got up, going to her and kneeling beside her. She turned to him.

"He wanted you to get an abortion?" She nodded. "Oh, Ziva-"

"I could not. It was my last link to you, and I would not... I refused to sever it. If I had, then I would have lost you, and I could not have borne that. So I refused. And he disowned me. Told me to pack my things and get out. When I told him that he did not know what family was, he hit me." Tim flinched. "Walked me out of the apartment, kicked my things down the stairs, threatned to kill me if I ever came back or if he ever caught me around my mother or my siblings, and then shoved me down the stairs." She could see tears in his eyes as she talked, and gently, reached out, catching them as they fell. "I know he hoped that the fall would either kill me or the baby or both. It didn't. My mother and brother and sister were helping me up when I regained my breath, and they took me out of the city. I must have fallen asleep, because when I woke up, I was in the house I was born in. My mother told me that they could not come everyday, but that they would help me as much as possible. I just remember watching from the window as they drove away. Hearing Tali's pleadings to let her stay with me."

Tim took a deep breath. "So you were... in a house, by yourself, for nine months?" She bit her lip, nodding.

"My mother took me to the village midwife, and I was looked after by the neighbors- good friends of my mother's- but I was never allowed into the city, unless I wanted my father to find me. Ima always said it was for my own safety, but..."

"But you began to doubt her." She nodded, sniffling.

"When Asher was born... it was as though a piece of my heart had returned. He was my last link to you, and I promised him that I would never let anything or anyone hurt him. That I would find you, so that you could meet your son." She choked on a sob. "I would have called, written, but..." She met his gaze. "I am so sorry, Tim. _I am so sorry_." He reached up; she wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his shoulder. Neither heard the door open, just the soft,

"Go home, McGee."

He pulled away, turning towards his boss. "But Gibbs, Ari-" The older man shook his head.

"Go home. And take her with you." He glanced back at Ziva, before turning back to Gibbs.

"But-"

"That's an_ order_, Tim." A moment passed, before Tim stood, helping Ziva to her feet. As they left, Gibbs looked up, finding Jenny standing at the catwalk, tears in her own eyes.

* * *

><p>As they made it down to the lobby, Ziva pulled away, going to the receptionist. The older woman gave her a soft smile, and she called to the young boy, who grabbed his jacket and rushed to join the young Israeli. As Ziva lifted the child into her arms, Tim watched, not wanting to interrupt. Finally, Ziva pressed a kiss to the boy's forehead, and then set him down, turning him towards the agent, and placing her hands on his small shoulders. She leaned down, whispering softly in his ear,<p>

"I have someone I want you to meet, my angel." She pressed a kiss to his cheek before walking him forward. They stopped only a foot or so from Tim, and he found himself transfixed by the young boy in front of Ziva. "Asher," She moved to stand beside him, causing him to turn to face her. As she reached up, taking his arms gently, she whispered, "do you remember the stories I have told you, about the man? Hmm? You remember those?"

The boy reached up, brushing his hair out of his eyes. "The man from Japan? With the eyes?"

"Yes, with your eyes. You remember?" He nodded. "Well, the person I want you to meet is that man."

The boy glanced at Tim before turning back to Ziva, his brow furrowed in confusion. He then glanced back at Tim before returning his gaze to her, his eyes now wide. He mouthed something softly to her, and she nodded, tears in her eyes. "_Ken_, my angel. This is the man." The boy turned back to Tim, mouth open slightly in shock. She took a deep breath, taking the boy's hand and turning him back to face the young agent. "Asher, this is your father. Tim McGee."

Tim watched as the boy's head swiveled between him and Ziva, connecting the pieces. Slowly, Tim knelt down as Ziva stood and walked to boy towards him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

He had been calm as he'd listened to Ziva's story up in the conference room. Calm because if he'd lost it, he'd never forgive himself. But now, as the boy came towards him, he saw that she was right. This child was his son.

The boy was only about seven or eight, with dark messy hair and a small nose, like Ziva's. His skin was a mixture of their tones, and he was small for his age. But it was his eyes that screamed to Tim that this child was his. The green in the boy's eyes was the same he saw in the mirror every morning, it was the same he saw in his sister Sarah's eyes, in his father's eyes. He could see his features in her son, and he knew.

_A parent knows their child, no matter how much time has passed._

"My... my_ son_?" Tim glanced up at Ziva, and she nodded. The boy watched him with curiosity, and after a moment, he reached out, brushing his fingers over Tim's face. As his fingers moved close to Tim's eyes, he turned to Ziva,

"_Ima_, he has my eyes." She smiled softly, leaning down to whisper,

"You have his eyes, my angel."

* * *

><p>Sarah looked up as the door opened. She set her cup down and rushed into the living room. "Timmy-" She skidded to a stop, at the sight of Ziva and a young boy with him. "Timmy? Who are they?" Her brother sighed, and he took Sarah's arm.<p>

"Do you remember the year we spent in Israel?" She thought a moment, before nodding. "Do you remember the argument Dad and I had the day after the ball?" Sarah's green eyes sparked, but she shook her head.

"Barely." He sighed. "What was it about?"

"Ziva and I...the Deputy director's daughter?" She nodded. "We slept together." Her eyes widened, and she glanced over his shoulder at Ziva. "That isn't all."

"There's more?" She asked. Ziva couldn't help laughing softly at the younger woman's surprise. Tim nodded.

"Yeah. We..." He glanced back at Ziva, unsure of how to say this. "We got pregnant. Only I didn't know. Ziva found out two weeks after Dad sent us back to the States. When her parents found out, her father disowned her, and she was forced to leave the city. She had the baby and... has been raising him by herself all these years." He bit his lip. "Sar, I have a son."

"A s... you have a..." The college student shook her head, trying to get everything straight. "Tim... I... you..._ what?"_

He sighed, shaking his head. "I feel the same way. Now set two more places at the table and we'll talk."

* * *

><p>Dinner was nerve-wracking, but once they got settled, Ziva told Sarah what she'd told Tim. She told about how difficult it was to be a single mother, and how she'd longed to track Tim down so she could tell him, but how she'd been unable to until now. By the time dinner was done, Sarah went to go, saying that she needed to patch things up with her roommate, but that she would be back in the morning for breakfast, like usual, and then gave Ziva a hug at the door. Once she was gone, the two settled down in the living room with coffee in hand, intent on talking.<p>

Silence reigned instead.

By oh-seven-hundred, Ziva had reluctantly put Asher to sleep in the guest room, before returning to the living room to find Tim sitting on the fire escape, lost in thought. Silently, she joined him. "Thank you. For letting us stay the night. Our things do not arrive from Israel until tomorrow." He chuckled softly.

"No problem."

A moment passed before he turned to her. "What does his name mean?" She looked up at him, surprised. "I know that... Israelis usually pick names for their children based on either family members that have passed on or because the name has a specific meaning. What does his mean?" He met her eyes, and she licked her lips.

"My happy or my blessed angel. His name means 'my blessed angel' in Hebrew."

"It's beautiful." She gave him a small smile.

"I chose it because I was truly blessed, when he was born. Whenever I looked at him, I saw you, and it gave me the strength to go on. I needed that strength, especially those months after he came into my life. I would not have survived without it." He reached out, taking her hand and squeezing. She squeezed back, giving him a small, tear-filled smile. "I tried to find you, to write and tell you, but I could not find your address. And every time I tried to start a letter or e-mail, I... I did not know how to say it. I did not know how to put into words that I was pregnant with your child." She turned away briefly, sniffling. "And now... now I realize how _easy_ it should have been- I am pregnant. _Three little words._ It was_ so easy_, and yet... and_ yet I could not write them down_..." She met his gaze. "I am sorry, Tim."

He took her face in his hands. "Shh. It's okay, Ziva. You're here now, we're together. We'll catch up, okay? I promise. I promise you, you won't do this alone anymore." She wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder as she broke down.

* * *

><p>"You must have been terrified, when you found out." She glanced back at him; they stood in the doorway to the guest room, watching their son sleep.<p>

"I was. I was terrified to tell my family, but their reactions were not unexpected; especially my father. I have always done something to disappoint my father. And this..." She sighed. "This was just the candy on the cake."

"Icing." She glanced back at him.

"What?"

"Icing. The phrase is icing on the cake." She nodded. He laid a hand on her back. "If you need anything, come get me." She gave him a smile. As he left, she turned, reaching out and grabbing is arm.

"Tim? Thank you." He gave her a small smile.

"No problem. Good night." Once he was gone, she entered the room, shutting the door softly behind her and changing out of her clothing into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt Tim had given her before slipping into bed and pulling the sleeping boy close.


	7. Chapter 7

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

_She rested her hands on her back, sighing as she struggled to support the immense weight before her. Though it was easier to breathe, the weight inside her uterus was uncomfortable, and she wanted nothing more than to have it over with. Her mother and siblings had been making regular visits as her due date got closer and closer, and she found that though they were helpful, all she wanted was for this to be over. Her mind once more flashed to him, and she swallowed the tears in her eyes. She heard the door open, followed by Tali's voice calling to her, and couldn't help but smile. Tali was always excited when she got to come visit, and she always made a point to talk to the baby, no matter how uncomfortable it made her sister. "In here, Tal-" She stopped, crying out in surprise as a sharp pain grabbed her belly. She had been experiencing them all day, but had thought nothing of them._

_"Ziva!" Tali's small hand found hers, and she squeezed, closing her eyes. "Ima! Something is wrong with Ziva!"_

She cried out softly, eyes snapping open. Glancing around, it took a moment for her to realize that she wasn't in Israel, but in Tim's apartment, with their son sleeping soundly beside her. Sighing softly, she gently brushed her fingers over the sleeping child's hair and got up, slipping out of the room and going into the kitchen. She rummaged around for a few minutes, before starting a pot of tea. As she leaned against the counter, waiting for the water to warm, her mind wandered back to the day that beautiful little boy had come into her life.

_Her mother and brother rushed into the room, the door slamming closed behind them. Rivka instantly rushed towards her older daughter, taking Tali's place at Ziva's side. "Zivaleh, sweetheart, talk to me." _

_"Something is wrong, Ima!" Tali said, bouncing on the balls of her feet nervously._

_"Zivaleh, Ziva, sweetheart, look at me. Look at me." She forced herself to meet her mother's gaze. "Talk to me. What are you feeling?" _

_"It hurts, Ima. Something is wrong. My belly..." She whimpered, squeezing her mother's hand. Rivka chuckled softly, a small smile on her face as she took her face in her hands. _

_"Oh, Ziva, my sweet girl. You are in labor." She saw the confusion in her daughter's eyes. "You are having the baby."_

The kettle's whistling brought her from her musings, and she rushed to take it from the burner so as not to wake Tim or Asher. But she soon heard Tim shuffling into the kitchen and turned to find him rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Couldn't sleep?" He asked. She shook her head.

"No." She accepted the two cups he grabbed from the cupboard, and quickly filled them, fixing the tea without meeting his gaze. "I see that I am not the only one." He took the cup she offered and sighed.

"I just... I keep thinking about..." He glanced over his shoulder towards the back bedrooms.

"About Asher?" He nodded, meeting her gaze.

"God, Ziva, if I'd known..." He set his cup down and reached out, taking her hand. "I would have been there. I would have come back and taken care of you, helped you, but..."

"But you did not. Because I did not tell you. And even if I had... I would not have asked you to give up your career for..." She bit her lip. "Your career is too important. I see it; I saw it today, in NCIS." He swallowed, nodding towards the living room, before heading towards the sofa. She followed, taking a seat beside him. "I could not have asked you to give up your career for Asher and I."

"My career may be important, but so are you and so is he. Ziva, he's my son. How could you think I wouldn't want to be there for him? To... to think that you went through all that- the entire pregnancy, the labor, the last _eight years, alone_- Ziva, I should have been there. Career or not, I should have been there for you, and I wasn't." She reached out, taking his hand, stopping him.

"You were there. Not physically, but in my heart. In my soul, you were there. You were there for everything, because I kept you in my heart." She sniffled. "And you are in our son. And for the last eight years, I got to raise him and watch him grow, and every time I look at him, I see you. He is so much like you. He is beautiful, like you." She gently reached up, trailing her fingers over his face. He caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm.

"What's kept you up?" She sighed, pulling away and sipping her tea.

"Memories." She looked up at him, unsure if she should tell him. "Of..." She bit her lip. "Of the day Asher was born. Of the day I went into labor, and gave birth to our son." Her gaze drifted, and she found herself recounting that trying day as the memories flashed before her mind. "My mother and my brother and sister had come down and spent the night before; they had gone to the store for groceries; I'd woken up with... slight pain in my belly, nothing major, or so I thought. Went about my day, and was... standing at the window, daydreaming when they returned."

Tim sipped his tea, listening intently as she explained the day that his son had been born. "The pain kept getting worse, but I just thought they were false. I was too caught up in my dreaming to pay any attention." She scoffed gently, meeting his gaze. "I heard them come back; Tali called for me, and I started to tell her that I was in the living room, but..." She sighed. "Suddenly, this sharp pain formed around my belly, and I felt unable to breathe. Tali came in, and called for my mother. She knew instantly what was happening."

"You'd gone into labor." She met his gaze, nodding.

"Yes. I had, though I had not realized it."


	8. Chapter 8

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

**Thanks to Sazzita for reviewing 3, 4 and 5; Reader for reviewing 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 and 7.**

She met his gaze, unsure of how he'd react. But he was listening intently, silently, allowing her to go on, in her own time. Allowing her to teach him of the day his son had entered the world. Taking a deep breath, she swallowed her fear, closing her eyes briefly, willing her heart to slow its racing. That day was so long ago, though it was forever seared into her mind. Every sight, every sound, every smell, every feel, all etched within her brain so finely that it could have been a mural, painted on the streets of Tel Aviv.

_Rivka and Ari helped her into the bedroom, while Tali was instructed to get towels and water, and anything else they would need during the birth. Her mother helped her settle on the edge of the bed, and then began gently rubbing her back, whispering softly to her. "Breathe, Zivaleh. Breathe through the pain. Deep breaths. That is it. I know, it hurts. I have been there. I know what you are experiencing."_

"I went through eight hours of early labor. They did everything they could to make it easier, but..." She chuckled softly. "_Nothing_ makes labor easy. But I had them. And I had you." She laid a hand on her heart. "In here, I had you, to help get me through."

_She let out a groan, shifting to her hands and knees to try to deal with the pain. Ari had checked her, saying that she was slowly dilating, and then patted her shoulder, telling her that she was doing a good job, and not to worry. At one point, she changed positions, sitting up and leaning forward, as Rivka rubbed her back, telling her stories or singing soft lullabies._

_"Do you need anything, Ziva?" She glanced up at her little sister, but shook her head, managing a smile. She had stripped down to only a tank top, not caring about modesty, or that her little sister was there to witness the birth of her nephew._

_"Just for this to be over." She whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind her sister's ear. As her labor progressed, the pain got worse, and she found herself unable to handle it without some form of release. In this case, pained, guttural, primal screams; she tried not to, for she'd been taught that showing any form of pain was a weakness-_

_"Zivaleh, look at me. Look at me!" She turned her gaze to her mother, who knelt beside her, rubbing her back and grasping her hand. "Your father is not here! He does not know of the baby about to be born, that it is still alive, he does not control you. Not now, not here." She shook her head. "Do not fight this, Ziva." Rivka said, grabbing her daughter's chin. "You fight this, and it will be dangerous for both you and the baby. If you want this baby in your arms, like I know you do, then you will throw all your father's foolish rules out the window. Eli is not here; you may do as you please."_

_"What are you suggesting, Ima?" Tali asked, as she wrung the washcloth out and dabbed at her sister's forehead. Rivka gave her youngest a small smile before turning back to her oldest. _

_"Scream." Ziva shook her head, but she caught the young woman's chin again. "It helps to deal with the pain you are going through. Trust me, Zivaleh, I know. I have been where you are now." _

_ Something pressed against her uterus, and she dug her teeth into her lower lip as the pressure slowly increased. Eventually, she felt something trickling heavily down her legs. Tali glanced down, confusion in her dark eyes as she watched. "Um... Ziva..." She glanced from the towel in her hands to her sister's legs. "Ziva, you... you have water... on your legs..." _

_Slowly, Ziva turned to Tali, who bit her lip and pointed to the floor. As she raised her eyes to her mother's, the trickling soon stopped and burst, showering her thighs in water. "Ima-" _

_Rivka took her face in her hands, brushing the tears away. "It is okay, Zivaleh, sweetheart. Your water has burst." She choked on a sob, struggling to handle the new realization, but all she could do was lay her head on her mother's shoulder, sobs of pain wracking her small, overwrought body._

She met his gaze. "I did not think it could get any worse." She chuckled softly and ran her thumb along the rim of her cup. "But active labor was nothing compared to the pain I felt as he was coming out of me and into the world." He gave her a soft smile, reaching out to take her hand.

"Take your time, Ziva." He whispered, and she nodded, squeezing his hand. He watched her, his green eyes drinking in the information she was giving him, and she felt a weight begin to lift off her heart.

_"Your son is stubborn, Zivaleh. He is taking his sweet time moving into your birth canal." She looked up at him, tossing her head, her sweaty bangs clinging to her forehead. _

_"What do you mean?" Rivka swatted the young doctor, glaring at him._

_"Do not tease your sister, Ari!" _

_"I am not teasing her. I am telling her the truth. It is going to be a while before he comes." _

_"But she is ready, right, Ari?" He glanced at Tali, who continued to dab at her sister's face with the damp cloth; Ziva turned away before finally reaching up and swatting the younger girl away._

_"Do not touch me." Tali ignored her and continued. _

"_Ken. She may be fully dilated, but that does not guarantee that he will come any faster. And it's not uncommon for babies to descend slowly in first-time mothers."_

_"Who say that there is going to be a second time?"_ _She asked, pushing herself up. As her sister's hand once again moved down her cheek, she reached up, shoving her hand away. "I said do not touch me!" Tali dropped the washcloth, backing away, tears in her eyes as Ziva lay her head back against the side of the bed._

_"Zivaleh." Ari scolded gently. Rivka waved him away as the laboring young woman took deep breaths and struggled to keep from grabbing one of them by the throat and choking them._

_"Leave her be, Ari. She is in pain, and she is entitled to act any way she pleases. There are certain rights allowed of a laboring woman, and irrationality is one of them." Her brother shook his head, and went to Tali, whispering softly to her before pushing her back towards Ziva._

"I had never known pain like that before or since." She met his gaze. "But it was worth it; every moment was worth the reward I received at the end." She gave him a soft smile, setting her cup down and reaching up to trace his features. "Because when he came out, when he entered the world, I felt my heart begin to mend. I knew it would never be whole, because I had lost you, but it was a start, because you had given me... you gave me our son." He caught her hand, pressing a soft kiss to her palm and drinking in her touch.

_"Ima, it hurts so much! Make it stop!" Rivka whispered softly to her, brushing her hair away from her face as she held her oldest daughter close._

_"Ari, what is happening to her? What is wrong?" Tali's dark eyes filled with fear as she watched her sister._

_"Let Ari take care of your sister, Talia. Come sit by her and give her your strength, love." Rivka ordered; Tali scooted closer, taking her older sister's hand. Ziva dug her short nails into the girl's soft flesh; her eyes shut tight, she struggled to keep from pushing until she was told too._

_"Zivaleh, listen to me. Look at me!" Slowly, she opened her eyes and met her older brother's gaze. "You're engaged."_

_"What?" He was making no sense._

_"Your son is engaged within your birth canal. Now, the contractions have pushed him further into your birth canal; you're transitioning, okay?" She nodded, too tired to understand a word he was saying. "Do not strain, do you understand? That means you do not push. Let your body do the work it was meant to do. If you push, you will tear and the healing process will be more painful and take longer. Okay? Do not push. Your body knows what to do, and you are going to let it do its job. Understand?"_

_"But what I have to-"_

_"No! Zivaleh, I know you're stubborn, but so am I. I am your doctor, so you are to follow my orders!"_

_"The only good trait any of you inherited from your father." Rivka whispered, pressing a kiss to Ziva's hair. "Stubbornness." Ari grinned at her, before turning back to his sister. "Listen to your brother, sweetheart. Okay? You listen to your brother."_


	9. Chapter 9

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

She swallowed. "The only thing that keep me going, kept me focused, was knowing that it was our son, your son, coming into the world. That I had gone through nine months of changes and... worries and fears... and that when it was over, I would have a piece of you back. That I would be able to look into our son's face and see you. Otherwise, I would have given up then and there."

She laid her head on the back of the sofa, closing her eyes, becoming lost in the memory. Tim watched silently as her hand moved down, subconsciously ghosting over her belly. And old habit, brought on from months of watching and feeling her belly grow and change before her.

_And then she felt it._

_The stretching as the baby's head moved through her birth canal and out of her body. She screamed, giving into the carnal urges that had built within her over the last twelve hours. "Ima, what is happening?" Rivka gently brushed her hair off her forehead. _

_"You're crowning, Zivaleh." Ari told her; she looked up at him, confused._

_"What?" Nothing her brother said was making any sense. But she didn't have time to think on his words, as a deep, burning sensation began to hit her, and she sucked in air, digging into her mother's hand with her nails._

_"Stop pushing, Ziva! I want you to stop pushing! If you push then you are going to tear, and we want to decrease that as much as we can. Do you hear me? Ziva!" She lifted her head, meeting her brother's gaze. "Breathe. Slow and calm and deep. Relax, Zivaleh. Let your body do the work." She nodded, feeling Rivka move behind her and wrap her arms around her, holding her close. Taking deep breaths, she leaned back and lay her head on her mother's shoulder, trying to do as Ari instructed. Soon, she began to feel Rivka's fingers in her hair, her soft voice in her ear. She squeezed her eyes shut, whimpering at the burning between her legs._

_"Ima, it burns! Make it stop, please!" Rivka continued to stroke her daughter's hair._

_"I know it burns, sweetheart. That's because the baby is coming out. He's starting to come out and the only way to accommodate him is for you to stretch. It will be over soon. It only lasts a few moments, okay?" She pressed a kiss to her older daughter's head, tightening her hold on the young woman. Ziva continued to breathe, finally feeling the numbness her mother told her about._

"I did not think it could get any worse, or any more amazing." She whispered, keeping her eyes closed. A soft chuckle escaped her throat, and she sighed. "I was wrong. Twice over."

Tim cocked his head to the side. "Twice?" She nodded, never opening her eyes.

_"What is that? Ari, what is that?" Slowly, she raised her head from Rivka's shoulder, to see Tali next to their brother. She was grabbing onto his arm; if she could have bounced up and down, she would have. Ari chuckled, glancing at Ziva. _

_"That, is our nephew, Talia." He replied. The younger girl's eyes widened. _

_"It is?" He nodded._

_"Ken. It is the top of his head." He glanced at Ziva again. "Zivaleh is doing good. He is coming."_

_"He is?" Ari nodded at his sister, smiling softly._

_"Would you like to feel the top of your son's head, Ziva?" She glanced from her brother to her mother and back._

_"I can?" He nodded, holding out a hand. Rivka helped her sit up, and gently, Ari guided her hand down between her legs. And then, he brushed her fingers against something new, different. What she was feeling was soft. Foreign and yet familiar. She looked up at her brother, only vaguely understanding._

_"Do you feel that, Zivaleh?" He gave her a small smile. She nodded. "That is your son's head." A small smile tugged at her lips, and she took a deep breath. _

_"His head." She whispered, turning to Rivka. "It is my son's head." Her mother gave her a small smile, kissing her temple._

She sighed, tangling their fingers. "It was one of the most amazing things I had ever felt. It was his head I was feeling against my fingers. Those beautiful dark curls; they were wet and even with everything going on, they were soft. It took my breath away." She squeezed his hand, phantom pains still catching her off guard after all these years.

"And what was the other one?" He asked softly, letting himself be carried away by her story.

_She couldn't focus on much, other than the pain that had taken control of her life. Holding tight to Rivka's hand, she pushed, following her body's urges. Tali was sitting next to her, holding her other hand, telling her stories or funny rhymes to get her mind off the pain she was going through._

_"Zivaleh, I want you to rest when you feel that you need to, okay? Listen to your body, okay?" She nodded, and after several minutes, choked out, _

_"Where is he? He is supposed to be here by now." Rivka chuckled softly._

_"Oh, Ziva, sweetheart. It takes time to push a baby out." She turned to her mother. _

_"Time?" Her mother nodded. "But-"_

_"He will be here soon, Zivaleh. Have patience. He will be here soon and then you can hold him."_

She licked her lips. "It was so frustrating. I had been pushing for hours, and... I felt as though I had nothing to show for it. I did as Ima instructed and listened to my body; it was the strongest urge I had ever felt before. I had no medication, no help other than my mother, sister and brother, and had never felt so much pain in my life. To feel your son..." She stopped, licking her lips. "Our son, coming out of my body... it was the most amazing feeling in the entire world."

_A scream escaped her throat as she felt Ari gently guide the baby's shoulders out. She dug her nails further into her mother and sister's skin, pushing as her body told her to. Focused on only the task at hand, she paid no attention to the thoughts bouncing in her head or escaping her vocal chords._

_"I want him! I want him back! He is mine! This is our son, he needs his father! I need him!" Rivka and Ari shared a glance, but were unable to do anything but soothe her with whispered words and touches. _

_"I need you to push one last time, Zivaleh! Ziva, look at me!" She forced herself to meet Ari's eyes. "One more push. One last push, okay?" She nodded, allowing Rivka an Tali to help her sit up. She leaned over, squeezing her eyes shut as she did as her brother directed and pushed. Minutes passed, time seemed to slow, before she finally heard the one thing she'd be anxious to hear for nine months. _

_Her son's strong, healthy cry._

Her eyes snapped open, and she lifted her head, meeting his gaze. A small smile graced her lips, and she sighed.

"I went through eighteen hours of labor, and..." She shrugged. "And then he was there. Our son."


	10. Chapter 10

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

He moved closer, reaching out and taking her into his arms. "I'm so sorry you had to go through it alone. I should have been there." She pulled away, looking into his eyes.

"You were. In my heart. In my soul." He got up, going to the desk and leaning against the chair.

"What did he look like? After birth?" She sighed, getting up and going to him. She reached out to lay a hand on his shoulder but thought better of it.

_She lay back in Rivka's arms, gulping in air, looking up to see Ari holding the baby out to her. "Here he is, Zivaleh. Here's your son." She reached out, taking the small body into her arms and holding him against her chest. After meeting her brother's eyes, she looked down at the baby against her skin._

_He was small, still covered in blood and birth, and yet, he was the most amazing thing she had ever seen. He had a head of dark hair, and beautiful blue eyes. Eyes that she hoped would change to green as he grew. Tali leaned over her shoulder, watching her nephew._

_"Why are his eyes not brown? Like ours?" Rivka shook her head, but Ziva only gave her sister a small smile._

_"Because his father has green eyes. And his eyes will change as he gets older." The baby squirmed in her arms, and she choked on a sob. A moment passed, before she lowered the strap of her tank top, exposing her breast, and gently, she guided the baby's mouth. "He is all I have left of his father."_

"He was beautiful, Tim. Curly dark hair. Blue eyes. Soft skin. Ten fingers and ten toes. He was perfect." Slowly, he turned to face her. His green eyes held a thousand emotions, and after a moment, she reached up, trailing her fingers over his skin. "Like you." She reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck. He held her close, breathing in her scent.

* * *

><p><em>"I went through eighteen hours of labor and then he was there. Our son."<em>

Ziva's words echoed in his head, and he swallowed. She'd endured everything- the changes in her body, the weight gain, the labor and delivery- all of it, alone. All because he hadn't known about the little boy they'd created together the night of the dinner. She hadn't told him, hadn't been able to get ahold of him. And while he was off at MIT and John Hopkins, getting his degrees and taking the FLECT, working at Norfolk and then transferring to Washington, she was taking care and raising their son; going to school and living in a house by herself. She was in the Army, before joining Mossad and working cases, all the while, watching their son grow- and then having to dodge his questions as to where his father was. He shook his head. He should have been there for her. He should have _been there_-

Tim looked up from his thoughts, at the sound of shuffling feet, to see Asher come into the kitchen, yawning. A quick glance at the clock told him that it was just a little after oh-five-hundred. He took a deep breath. How did he talk to the boy? How did he get to know him? This was his_ son_, for God's sake. How did he even _begin_ to make up for the eight years lost?

"Good morning... Asher. Would you like some tea?" The boy looked up at him, nodding sleepily. After fixing two cups of tea, he returned to his seat at the table. They sat in silence, unsure of what to say to one another or even how to begin. Eventually, the boy looked up at him.

"_Ima_ says that you are my... _Abba_." Tim thought a moment, familiarizing himself with the scant Hebrew he'd picked up when he was there nearly nine years ago. After a moment, he nodded.

"Yeah, I am." He sighed, resting his arms on the table. "So... are you in school?" The boy looked up at him, green eyes drinking in the question before he nodded.

"Primary." He bit his lip, glancing at Tim before returning his gaze to his cup. "I am in... Class Ten."

"Class ten?" Tim asked softly. Asher nodded.

"He means Class two." Both looked up as Ziva entered, gently ruffling the boy's hair. Tim nodded, understanding.

"That makes more sense." He whispered; the boy blushed, looking away. "So, third grade." Ziva nodded, going to the stove and pouring herself a cup of tea. "What are you studying?" The boy thought a moment, glancing at Ziva. She nodded, sipping her tea.

"_Ima_ teaches me English. She says that I need to know it so... so I would be able to talk to you when she... found you." Tim started, surprised. He glanced at Ziva, who nodded, sipping her tea silently. A moment passed, before Tim nodded, smiling softly.

"That's good. It's always good to know a second language-" He jumped as his cell rang, and quickly got up to answer it. Ziva went to their son as Tim slipped into the living room. She reached down, brushing her fingers through his hair.

"_Ima_." She glanced down at him, finding herself staring into Tim's eyes. "I do not think he likes me." She sighed, setting her cup down and taking a seat beside him.

"Oh my angel, it is not that he does not like you, it is that he does not know you." Before she could say anymore, Tim came back into the kitchen.

"That was Gibbs. He wants us in the bullpen as soon as possible." Ziva stood, nodding.

"Okay. I... I will go get dressed. Will he be okay-" Tim shook his head.

"No, Ziva. When Gibbs said he wants us in the bullpen, he meant all_ three_ of us."


	11. Chapter 11

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

Asher looked around; he'd never been in the bullpen, but it fascinated him. He sat at one of the desks, looking at everything, watching as his mother sat at the desk beside the one he sat at. His father- it was still strange to think of this American man as his father- was pacing nervously back and forth. "McGee." Instantly, the man straightened, turning as another man, one with silver hair, entered and immediately made his way towards his desk. But he stopped short, seeing the child sitting at it. Gibbs slowly blinked, looking from the kid to his agent and back. After a moment, he moved away from the desk, towards the elevator. "My office, McGee. Now."

A moment passed, as Tim shot a glance at the boy and his mother before following. Once he stepped within the box, Gibbs flipped the switch. "Boss-"

"You mind telling me who they are and what they're doing here?"

"You asked for them to come in-"

"I don't mean in the bullpen, I mean in America." He replied. Tim sighed; he knew his childhood would come up sooner or later, he'd just hoped it would have been later. Taking a deep breath, he whispered,

"Ziva and I- Officer David and I-" He amended. "we met when we were teenagers. In Israel. My father was the American Ambassador to Israel, long before he ever became a UN Ambassador. We were only there a year. Ziva and I..." He stopped, meeting Gibbs eyes briefly. "We hung out, but we were never close. We never dated; her older brother and younger sister and my sister Sarah were always there..." Gibbs stepped closer. Tim took a deep breath. "The night Asher was conceived, we... we snuck out of this... embassy ball and dinner and went to this small coffee shop. Eventually we returned to her parents' apartment and..." He shrugged. "We slept together. We were both virgins and... we gave ourselves to each other. It wasn't planned, it was a complete... a complete spur of the moment thing and..." He sighed, leaning back against the wall and sinking to the floor. After a moment, he looked up at Gibbs. "It's true, that saying- 'It only takes one time', and it did for us." He licked his lips, thinking. "Neither one of us knew. She found out two weeks after Sarah and I returned to the U.S."

When he looked up again, Gibbs was joining him on the floor. "Her father disowned her when he found out; tried to kill her by shoving her down the stairs, in hopes that she'd miscarry. Her mother and siblings took her to a house outside of Tel Aviv, and she lived there; they would come take care of her and check on her." He sniffled. "They were there when she went into labor and... and she had my so-" He stopped, taking a deep breath. "Her son," Gibbs could tell that Tim's refusing to acknowledge Asher as his came from a deep fear that the boy would be taken from him, that Ziva would be taken from him. "was born after eighteen hours. She said he was perfect." He turned to meet his boss's gaze. "What do I do, Gibbs? I don't know the boy, I barely know Ziva. He's my son... I've lost eight years of his life, how do I get them back?"

The older man watched his young agent, before laying a hand on his shoulder. "You get to know him now, and spend time catching up." Then he stood, helping McGee to his feet. As they left the elevator and returned to the bullpen, two figures came up from taking the stairs- Anthony DiNozzo and Abigail Scuito. Both carried cups of caffeine and were silent, realizing the importance of being there early. When Abby saw Tim, she rushed to him, throwing her arms around him.

"Timmy! Ducky finished Kate's autopsy-" But he pulled away from her, moving around his coworkers and going to his desk. Tony, taking a seat at his own desk, finally caught sight of the two extra occupants.

"Um, Gibbs? Who's... you're that Mossad officer, but who's-" Ziva took a deep breath, as Asher rushed to her, hiding behind her. It was Tim that answered.

"Tony, Abby, this is Asher." He glanced at the child, who watched him from behind his mother. "My son." The pair shared a glance; Tony was the first to speak.

"I... you have to be... kidding, Probie. Did... did you say..._ son_?" Tim nodded, and slowly, Asher moved out from behind Ziva, who laid her hands on his shoulders. Gently, she pushed him forward.

"Go on, my angel." Silence filled the bullpen as the boy stepped forward, holding out a hand. Tony glanced at Gibbs before taking the child's hand and shaking.

"It is... nice to meet you." Asher whispered, as Tony shook the boy's hand. He leaned down, and that was when he saw it. The green eyes, the features were a mix of the Israeli officer and his coworker- Tony glanced up at Tim, mouth dropping open. But before he could ask, Gibbs cut him off.

"You two, explain." Tim and Ziva shared a glance, debating which should go first.

"Agent Gibbs." Everyone turned, to see Director Shepard on the catwalk. "Bring them to my office. All of them."

* * *

><p>Abby, Tony, Ducky and Palmer- who had shown up after Gibbs called them- all took seats on the sofa in the Director's office. Gibbs stood by the door, and Asher stood with Ziva, who held her son close. Tim sighed, pacing back and forth, unsure of where to start. He glanced around, his gaze landing on the boy who shared so many of his features. Asher watched the young agent, suddenly afraid that he'd done something to get his mother and the agent in trouble. He turned to Ziva.<p>

"_Ima_, did I do something wrong?" Gently, she laid a hand on her son's head, and then knelt down. Tim looked up.

"No, my angel. You did nothing wrong."

"But-" Everyone watched as Tim went to them, kneeling to stare into his own green eyes.

"It's not you, that did anything wrong. The one who did something wrong is me. I kept a secret from the agency, and I need to take my punishment."

"What secret?" The boy asked. Tim smiled softly, slowly reaching out to cradle his son's cheek in his hand.

"You."

"But _Ima_ says you did not-"

"I know. But it doesn't matter. A secret is still a secret, even if you don't know about it." He stood, turning to Director Shepard, who sat at her desk. "Where would you like me to start?"

Jenny raised an eyebrow. "At the beginning, Agent McGee."


	12. Chapter 12

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

**A/N: And now, the rest of the team learns Tim and Ziva's story...**

Tim took a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly. He looked over Jenny's head, staring out at the National Mall, miles away. It was not yet oh-six-thirty, and darkness still held the world in sleep. He swallowed. "I was born in Germany, six years after the Munich Massacre at the Olympic Games."

"I don't think she meant from that begin-" But Abby smacked the back of Tony's head. Tim ignored them.

"Timmy?" Everyone turned, to see Sarah McGee enter. "I... I got a call from NCIS, and when I got here, the receptionist directed me up here." Shepard stood, going to Sarah and shaking her hand.

"I called you, Ms. McGee."

"Why?" Sarah asked, confused, as she took in the others there.

"Because I think you need to hear this." After a moment, Sarah turned to her brother.

"Timmy? What's going on?" He sighed.

"You need to know the story, Sarah. The whole story."

"What story, Timmy? I know-" He shook his head.

No, you don't. You only know what Ziva and I were willing to divulge last night. But it goes deeper than that." She nodded, before taking a seat at a chair at the conference table, next to Ziva, who'd taken a seat and pulled Asher onto her lap. Tim glanced at his sister once, before turning back to the window. He moved close, stopping by the window and leaning on the ledge. "Sar, do you remember our trip to Munich? When you turned eight?" She thought a moment.

"Barely, why?" He glanced at her. "We went to a memorial, for the eleven Israeli athletes killed at the seventy-two Olympic Games." She swallowed.

"Okay? But what does that have to do with this?" He turned to her.

"It has everything to do with this!" Sarah reeled back; she'd never seen Tim so angry. "Our father had taken the position of American Ambassador eight years before. Mom and Dad had been in Munich when the Israeli athletes were murdered by the Black September group. Dad had tried to strike up peace talks with the Israeli Prime Minister, Golda Meir. Nothing worked. They took no deals, made no negotiations, and those athletes paid the ultimate price. Israel turned to Mossad to take out the men who planned Munich. Our father had watched as one by one, the men were murdered." He took a deep breath, looking around. "When my father was called back to America by the president, I was two; Sarah, you hadn't been born yet-" He stopped.

"You were born in Lebanon in eighty-three. We were one step closer to Israel, which is where Dad wanted to be. He wanted to strike up peace talks with the Israelis; Munich was always in the back of his mind; they were sons, fathers, brothers, and they needed peace, according to him. When we returned to America, he requested over and over to go to Israel, and finally, in ninety-six, his wish was granted. That's all I heard growing up, was how Israel needed peace, and by giving Israel peace, so would the rest of the world receive it. I got so _sick_ of hearing him talk about it, that I was glad when I got into MIT. And then he pulled me out of school, and shipped us all over to Israel." He turned to his sister. "Honestly, Sarah, I hated it. I know you loved it, you had a great time, especially when you met Talia, but I... all I wanted was to be back at school."

"But Timmy, you always said that you loved it there-"

"I only said it to make Dad happy, Sar. Because he wouldn't quit! And he... he tried so hard to groom me to be like him, but I never liked politics. I never have and I never will. The only bright spot was the University. Books, endless books, I was in heaven. But while you loved the places and the people, I hated it. All of it. The places, the people, the dust and the dirt. The night we stepped off the plane, and into the embassy, when we were greeted by Director David and his family-"

_"Ah, Ambassador McGee, welcome to Israel." He watched as the two men shook hands. Eventually, his gaze moved from his father and the Deputy Director, to the two young girls standing back behind them slightly. One was about ten or so, but the other one-_

"You took to Tali like a fish to water, Sarah. The girl was cute, curled pigtails and overalls. But the other one." He turned, glancing at Ziva, something lighting his green eyes and he grinned quickly at her.

_"These are my children, Ari, Talia, and Ziva." Quickly, he shook hands, only to have the older girl ask, _

_"Do you really barbecue pigs in fire pits in your backyards?"_

He chuckled. "She asked me about barbecuing pigs like Hawaiians do. I thought she was the most annoying, juvenile, insufferable person I'd ever met, and I was never so happy to be shuffled off to the apartment so I wouldn't have to answer her question. That doesn't mean that she left me alone. Followed me around every chance she got and asked me everything she could think of. From... how hard it was to surf, to what it was like to eat pork chops." He shook his head, turning back to the window. "I hated her, but I won't deny that there was an attraction."

"Timmy-"

"Do you remember the day we stopped at that café and had pie and coffee, Sarah?" Tim asked, turning to his sister. She thought a moment, before nodding slowly.

"Vaguely." He pulled something out of his pocket- for some reason, he'd grabbed the photo Ari had given him before leaving the apartment today- and laid it on the director's desk.

"We went out, and Deputy Director David sent his son to take us, to babysit us, actually. His little sisters had tagged along." After a moment, Sarah got up and went to the desk, picking up the photograph. She stared at it for a moment, a small smile lighting up her face. She turned to Tim.

"We'd ordered pie, and I'd gone to take a bite, and ended up with whipped cream all over my nose. You were laughing at me." He nodded.

"What's the point, McGee?" Gibbs asked. Tim sighed, turning to his boss. He took the photo from Sarah and held it up.

"This photo was taken a week before Ziva and I slept together. It was taken a _week_ before our son was conceived."


	13. Chapter 13

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

"We were there four months, Sarah and I. It was fine, but... but the night of the embassy dinner, everything shot to hell." He turned back to the window, setting the photograph down. "Dad forced us both into our best and... dragged us to the dinner. I brought a book, and sat at the table reading while Sarah danced with the Deputy Director of Mossad. At one point, Ziva startled me, and offered to sneak us out of there and go get coffee. I couldn't resist any chance to get away from that stifling dinner. So we left."

Ziva sat listening; she remembered that night well. It was the night that had literally changed her life forever. She glanced down at her son, who looked up at her.

"You left the dinner?" He turned to Sarah, who's mouth had dropped. "Daddy looked for you! He sent people to search the entire embassy! He thought you'd been snatched against your will and taken out of the building!" Tim shook his head.

"I left with Ziva, went and got coffee and... we talked, for hours. About everything we could think of. By the time we returned to her parents' apartment, we were both quite proud of ourselves for escaping. Neither one of us were thinking of the consequences or how our parents would react." He sighed, turning to meet Ziva's gaze. "We made love that night. It was the first time, for both of us. We were young, we weren't thinking, we didn't use protection." Tim thought a moment, his gaze going to the boy in Ziva's arms. "So we did something we could control; something our parents couldn't dictate. We gave in and we had sex. We made love. And I just... I remember waking up in her arms the next morning, and it was the most beautiful sight in the entire world."

_"So it was not a dream." He shook his head, propping himself on his elbow to watch her. Her hair was down around her shoulders, her skin soft and glowing in the light. _

_"I thought so too, but no. It wasn't." She smiled, reaching up to trace his jawline. _

_"Good." He leaned down, kissing her gently._

He closed his eyes, the memory fading away. "It was so quiet, so... perfect. And then it wasn't." Ziva closed her eyes, tears coming to her eyes as she remembered being caught.

_The door slammed against the far wall, and the two looked up, to see Deputy Director David stride into the room. He swore in Hebrew, as they tried hard to hide any indication of activity, but they were teenagers, and the evidence was scattered all over the floor. "I come home, expecting my daughter to be asleep in her bed, to find my daughter alone, and this is what I find?" He snapped. _

_"Abba-" _

_But instead of acknowledging her, his gaze landed on the young man by her side. He grabbed Tim's arm, pulling him close. "I trusted you! I put my trust in your father! And this- this is how you repay me! By tricking my daughter to allow you into her bed!"_

_"It was not like that, Abba!" She cried, reaching for him, but he shoved her away. Then, he struck Tim hard across the back, shoving the younger man to the ground and kicking him hard in the stomach._

_"You defiled my daughter! You destroyed her! You filthy swine! To think, I let you around Talia as well-" She pushed him away; the blankets had been pulled from the bed, and she knelt next to him, handing him his clothing._

_"I am sorry-" Eli yanked her away, shoving her into the bookcase as Tim quickly dressed and stood. He grabbed Eli's arm as he reared back to smack her, and the older man turned._

_"Don't touch her!" In response, Eli shoved Tim back, into the mirror hanging on Ziva's wall. The glass shattered, embedding chunks and shards into his back and shoulders._

_"Get out! You get out of this apartment before I have you jailed for rape!"_

_"It was consensual, Abba! We decided-" But she didn't get a chance to explain, as Eli pulled Tim to his feet and shoved him out of the room. She crumpled to the ground, sobbing, the destruction of her room and her heart taking precedents over the secret she now carried._

"When Dad found out; I was rushed to the hospital and..." He sighed, not wanting to dwell on what had been the very real possibility that he probably would never have been able to walk again if not for the surgery. "That's why Dad shipped us home the next day, Sarah. I was given a day and a half to recoup, and then they sent us home. Mom and Dad returned to the States not two months later, any hope of drawing up peace with Mossad gone. They were off Britain two weeks later, where Dad became an Ambassador for the U.N., and then they were off to Japan."

Sarah wiped a tear off her cheek, as did everyone else, she noticed. "Timmy, I-" But he shook his head.

"I don't know what happened after we left, but I never stopped thinking about Ziva and Tali, or any of them."

"So, this is where your stories, converge and... split?" She asked, turning from Tim to Ziva and back.

"Just because we left, doesn't mean our paths split, Sarah." Tim whispered. "Our paths were still very much converged." He glanced to Ziva, who took a deep breath. She knew that she had to give her side of the story, for it took up where Tim's left off. Silently, she pressed a kiss to Asher's head, before having him slip off her lap, and she stood. She went to Tim, picking up the photo, a smile crossing her face. When she finally started to speak, she kept her eyes locked on Tim's, as though they were the only people in the room.

"I started to get sick, about a week after Tim left."


	14. Chapter 14

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

"At first, I thought it was just a touch of the flu."

_She quickly locked the door before rushing to the toilet and lifting the lid. As she lost her lunch, she realized that this was more than just some flu. She had been spending more time in the bathroom than usual, was sensitive to most smells, and certain foods made her sick. When she finally was able to move away from the toilet and wash her mouth and hands, she glanced in the mirror, thinking back. _

_It wasn't unusual for her to skip a month or two, but she'd never skipped with such severe symptoms. With shaky hands, she knelt down and reached into the back of the cupboard beneath the sink. Slowly, she pulled out the box, quickly opening it up and pulling out the contents. As she scanned the instructions, she told herself that this was just a precaution. _

_But when the results came back positive, she grabbed the second test she'd bought and tried it, hoping for a negative. It too, was positive. _

_Taking a deep, shaky breath, she sank to the floor, unable to tear her gaze from the two small crosses on the tests. No, this couldn't be happening. She couldn't be..._

_But she was._

"I was able to hide it for the first three months or so." She sniffled. "Even into my fourth month, but... but soon, I was not able to hide it any longer." She reached out, grasping for Tim's hand. "The only reason I was not able to hide it anymore was because Tali saw me. And she was worried, so she went to _Ima_ and..."

_She pulled her legs to her chest, burying her face in her knees. Why had she been so eager to change in her room and not the bathroom, like she had been doing for the last four months? Why hadn't she locked her bedroom door? Why had Tali gone to Ima?_

_"Ziva! Ziva!" Her head snapped up, and she held her breath, the tears fresh on her cheeks. She'd spent the last few weeks packing, knowing that her time here with her family was limited, and she'd managed to get several bags and boxes together, but she'd hoped- "Ziva, get out here! Now!"_

_A moment passed, before she slowly climbed to her feet and left her room, finding her family in the living room. She looked up at her father, brushing the tears away, even as Rivka went to her daughter and slowly, gently unbuttoned her blouse. Her father said nothing, just watched as the material fell away, exposing the small mound of her belly. "Oh Ziva, sweetheart-" She shook her head, pulling away from her mother. Eli moved towards his daughter, and for the first time, she reached down, wrapping her arms protectively around her belly, like she'd struggled to keep from doing for the last five months. Slowly, she lifted her gaze to meet his._

_And then her gaze was shoved to the side as his hand made contact with her cheek. Ari moved to intercept, but Rivka grabbed his arm, shaking her head, her concern for Ari superseding her concern for Ziva at the moment. Tears slowly slid down Ziva's cheeks, as she turned her gaze to her father. "You little slut. You are not my child anymore."_

Even now, the others watched as her hands subconsciously ghosted over her stomach. She shook her head. "He disowned me and... ordered me from the apartment. Shoved me down the stairs, in an attempt to either kill the baby or me or both." She heard both Abby and Jenny gasp, but paid them no mind. Her gaze remained locked on Tim's. "My mother and siblings took me out of the city that day. They took me back to Be'er Sheva, where I was born, and settled me in my mother's house. It was the house my mother was born in; the house I was born in. And it... it was the house our son was born in." She met Tim's green eyes after moving to look at Asher, who sat in the chair, as enthralled about his parents' story and his entrance into the world as the others were.

"Ziva-" She shook her head.

"They came and... checked on me, stayed the night, sometimes for days, as long as they could without _Abba_ getting suspicious, but..." She shrugged. "I spent more time by myself, dreaming of you and... and watching as our baby grew and changed inside me."

_She took a deep breath, slowly shutting the bedroom door. She'd just stepped out of the shower, and her hair was still slightly damp. After a moment, she went to the window and shut it, pulling the curtain over it to hide the inside of the room, not that anyone would look in. Then, she went to the mirror, and slowly removed the towel from around her body. As it slowly pooled around her feet, she stepped out of it, and moved closer to the mirror. _

_Slowly, her hands began moving over her body, starting first at her breasts, moving over what would nurture her child in the first months of life, before moving down to the growing mound in the middle of her small body. The skin was stretching as her belly continued to grow; it was soft, smooth, and if she laid her hand atop it, she could feel the baby move within. Tears came to her eyes; from everything she'd read, watched on TV, this was an experience she was supposed to be sharing with the baby's father, but he was gone, and she did not know if she would ever see him again. A deep, ragged breath escaped her throat, and she moved one hand down, cradling the bottom of her growing belly. "I love you, and I know, if your Abba were here, he would love you just as much as I do."_

She looked up at him, reaching up to gently brush a tear off his cheek. "The only time I could ever see you was in my dreams."


	15. Chapter 15

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

**Thanks to Sazzita for reviewing 13 and 14; Reader for reviewing 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13 and 14.**

As Ziva opened her mouth to continue, Sarah spoke up, intercepting. "Wait, Timmy, I... I don't understand." The pair turned to look at her. "If her dad disowned her after he found you two together, then how did Daddy react when-" But Tim shook his head, indicating that he didn't want to discuss it now, and that he would tell her when they were alone; that it was a conversation for the siblings and no one else.

Ziva took a deep breath, glancing around the room. "I got more and more scared as it got closer to..." She licked her lips. "I started to blame you, for what you had done to me, and then... and then I realized that... that it was not your fault. You had not planned it. Neither one of us had. It just happened." She sniffled. "And then, I... I began to realize it was a gift, that you had given me. A precious gift, because..." She reached, taking his face in her hands. "Because residing inside me was a _part of you."_

_She stood by the window, staring out at the olive groves; it was noon, the sun was warm on her face. Rivka had just taken her to see the midwife, and the woman had soothingly told her that she was twenty-six weeks; nearly halfway through her pregnancy._ _She had been surprised to find that her navel was showing, and her mother had laughed softly, telling her that it would return to normal after the baby was born. "Enjoying the sun?" She looked up, as Rivka joined her, and gave her mother a soft smile. She nodded, hands moving over her belly. She wore a simple blue button-down, and had quickly unbuttoned it upon returning from her doctor's appointment. The skin stretched and curved over her tummy; it was a smooth, soft slope, protecting the precious cargo within. _

_"Ima?"_

_"Hmm?" She bit her lip, before looking up at her mother. _

_"What if Abba was right? What if I should have..."_

_"Should have what, Ziva?" The older woman took her daughter's chin in her hand, forcing her to look up. "Should have aborted the baby?" Her daughter looked away, tears in her eyes. "Now you listen to me, Zivaleh." A moment passed before the girl slowly brought her gaze back to Rivka's. "I know that this is not what you wanted with your life, that this is not what you hoped or planned, but the best things often are unplanned." She sighed. "Ziva, may I ask you something?" _

_"What is it, Ima?" _

_"If you had known this boy from the beginning, if you had grown up with him, would you love him as much as you do?" Her head snapped up. _

_"Ima! I... I am not... I am not in love with him! I do not hardly..." But her mother held up a hand._

_"All I am asking, Zivaleh, is if you had grown up around this boy, if you had known him as children, would you still have made the decision you did? Sleeping with him? Would you still have made the decision to carry his baby if you had known him your entire life?" Ziva bit her lip, turning away from her mother. She had a point; they had only known each other four months, and had spent most of the time arguing or antagonizing each other. But even so, she had found herself falling in love with him; sure, she probably had driven him crazy, but he also made a point to listen and correct her if she was wrong, he was kind, caring, and genuinely took an interest in something she was interested in. After a moment, she looked up at her mother, nodding. _

_"Ken, Ima. I think, that if I had known him my entire life, I still would have slept with him, I still would choose to carry his child. But... the only difference would be that he would be here, with me, going through this with me. Watching me grow and change," She turned her attention briefly to her belly, caressing the skin softly. "and helping me prepare." She looked up at her mother. "But he is not. And this baby... this... little person growing inside me..." She sniffled, tears slipping down her cheeks. "is all I have left of him. He is the only link I have... he is all I have left, Ima, and I cannot lose that..." Her mother took her face in her hands, brushing the tears away before pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. _

_Neither heard the click of the camera as the moments were captured forever frozen in time._

She sniffled, glancing over her shoulder at the little boy in question. Asher looked up, meeting his mother's gaze. She gave the child a small smile, fresh tears sliding down her cheeks. "Not having you there made it harder. Scarier. I was doing this all alone, and while I had my mother and my siblings, I did not have you. I did not have the father of my baby. And I did not know how to contact you." She bit her lip. "But I dreamt of you, every night. I dreamt of you, coming back and taking me... taking us... away from Israel. I dreamt of us being a family. And I kept you in my heart."

Slowly, Sarah raised a hand. Everyone turned to her, various looks of confusion and interest on their faces. "Um, Timmy?" He met his sister's eyes. "Is... this why you broke it off with that Delilah in college? Because of-" She pointed to the child, who ducked his head. Tim sighed, rolling his eyes.

"No, Sar. I broke it off with Delilah because she had everything planned out for us, from our engagement to our gravestones. I've never met a more... anal person in my entire life, and that's-"

"Saying something." Sarah finished, the slight thrill going through her as her brother grinned softly. She loved it when they finished each others' sentences; it was like the language they'd invented when they were younger. It was something time could never erase. Tim nodded.

"Yeah. Delilah was the exact opposite of Ziva." He turned back to the Israeli. "But those... four months I knew her... I've never met anyone as... calculatingly chaotic as her, and... I guess that's what drew me to her." He shrugged, acting like a schoolboy on his first date, as Ziva grinned softly. "Surprisingly, I happen to_ like_ calculating chaos."


	16. Chapter 16

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

Tim turned back to her. "Go on." He whispered, as she reached down and took his hand. She sighed.

"As it got closer, Tali spent more time with me. She was fascinated; I guess it was... the whole... childish curiosity. But she told me once that she wanted to be a midwife and deliver babies, and... she asked me if she could be there, when mine was born." She chuckled, shaking her head, meeting Tim's eyes. "And she was. She and Ari both were." Her whisper was soft, so only Tim and the director heard.

_"Zivaleh?" She looked up from her book, her concentration on the words and the rhythmic caressing of her belly broken by her little sister's voice. Tali was in the kitchen, watching her._

_"What is it, Tali?" The girl hesitated, before asking,_

_"... does it hurt?" Her older sister's brow furrowed in confusion, and she gestured to her stomach. Realizing, Ziva shut her book and set it on the coffee table, before patting the space beside her. She had been instructed to stay off her feet as much as possible at thirty-six weeks, and so sat back against the sofa, feet up on the table atop a pillow, with another pillow supporting her lower back. As Tali joined her, the younger girl perched on the opposite side of the sofa, as far away from her sister as possible._

_"You do not need to sit so far away, Tali. You will not hurt me by sitting next to me." Slowly, the girl moved until she was sitting next to her sister, so that her knee was brushing the side of her hip. She jumped and scooted away, but Ziva gave her a look that told her she was being foolish. The younger girl studied her for a moment, before stating the obvious._

_"You are so big." Ziva laughed softly at the seriousness of Tali's question. "It is not funny! It is true! Your tummy is so big, Zivaleh! Are you sure this is only one baby inside you?" Her older sister nodded, and slowly unbuttoned the blouse she wore and removed it, leaving on her bra on. Her hands gently began caressing her belly, following the curve._

_"Ken, Tali, I am sure. The midwife confirmed, there is only one. And he is all I have left of him." The girl cocked her head, but she knew what Ziva was talking about. She herself had quite liked the American boy and his little sister, who was only about three years older than her. She also knew that Ziva was in love with him, but that her stubbornness would never allow her to admit it._

_"So she wants you to stay off your feet?" Ziva nodded. "Because you walk funny?" Her sister laughed, which made the younger girl smile._

_"Because I waddle? No, that is not why. I am to rest as much as possible, so I do not strain myself, I guess. I did not fully understand what the midwife meant, but I am following her instructions." They lapsed into silence for several minutes, before Ziva noticed that her sister's hand kept inching towards her belly and then pulling away. "Would you like to feel where his head is?"_

_"I can?" She nodded._

_"Here." Gently, Ziva took her sister's small hand in hers, and gently laid it on her belly, at the top, near her breasts. "Here is his feet." She gently held her sister's hand at the top of her belly; Tali jumped back as the baby kicked at the soft pressing, and Ziva giggled. _

_"He kicked me!" She cried, eyes wide in surprise._

_"No, he kicked me!" Ziva replied. "You just received the after-kick. I received the whole thing." After a moment, Tali returned to her place by her sister's side, allowing Ziva to continue moving her hand over her stretched and distended belly. "He is a very active little boy." She murmured, as her sister's small fingers skimmed over her bellybutton._

_"Like you?"_

_"And hopefully like his Abba." Silence fell._

_"Does he know, Zivaleh?" She met her sister's gaze, swallowing._

_"No. I found out after he left."_

_"So you never told him? Ever?"_

_"No."_

_"Will you?" She sighed._

_"If I ever see him again, ken, I will tell him of his son. And hope he does not turn his back on us."_

_"He will not." Ziva looked up at her._

_"How do you know?" Tali grinned._

_"Because he loves you."_

_"It is more complicated than that-"_

_"How? You slept together. He made a baby with you, Zivaleh. He loves you, otherwise, he never would have made a baby with you." Ziva moved to open her mouth, but thought better of it as she rested her sister's hand at the bottom of her belly, just above her womb._

_"And there, is his head." A moment passed, before Tali turned to her, grinning._

_"I feel it! That is his head." Ziva nodded, unable to hide her own smile. "You will push him out of you, when he is born."_

_"That is what birth means." Tali licked her lips, as she moved her hand lower, to slip her fingers between her sister's clothing-clad thighs. Ziva grabbed her wrist, tightening gently. Tali turned to her._

_"I am going to be a midwife when I grow up and deliver babies for a living. Mrs. Goldstein promised she would teach me when I get older." Suddenly, the girl's face lit up in joy. "Maybe I will get to deliver your babies!" _

_"No, Tali, I am only-"_

_"No, Zivaleh, when you find him and have more! When you find him and tell him and marry him and make more babies! By then I will be a midwife! And I can deliver them!" Something sparked in her sister's gaze, and she swallowed._

_"There will be no more babies for me, Tali. Because I will never see him again. And how can we make more babies if I never see him again?" She sniffled, blinking to clear the tears in her eyes. But Tali shook her head, reaching over to lift her sister's chin to meet her gaze as her voice dripped with excited, childish enthusiasm. _

_"There will be more babies, Zivaleh. You will find him and marry him. You will make thousands of babies with him, I know it!" _


	17. Chapter 17

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

Ziva glanced around, tears in her eyes. "Tali never got that chance, to learn to be a midwife." She sniffled. "She was killed, in a Hamas suicide bombing in Tel Aviv when Asher was five. She was sixteen." She took a shaky breath, glancing at her feet before looking up at everyone, her eyes finally settling on Tim. "Tali was not like my father, she was not like me. Tali had compassion." She choked on a sob. "She did not deserve such a violent path to death. She did not deserve to die while I got to live..." She struggled to keep from breaking down, shaking her head when Jenny reached for her hand. Taking another shaky breath, she looked at everyone. "After Tali's death, I was like you, Agent Gibbs. All I wanted was revenge. And I got it." She bit her lip. "But it cost me nearly everything precious to me."

They listened, tears in their eyes, all watching closely, held to attention by the story of the young Israeli and their youngest NCIS Agent. It took her a moment to gather her emotions, but once she was calm, she continued. "I was able to finish school by the time Asher was born. And... it is expected of all young Israelis to join the Army once they reach adulthood; well, I would reach adulthood sooner than most, but... Ima told me she would take care of that, until I was ready to join. Until then, she told me that it was my job to focus on the baby and... and get ready for motherhood."

_"Ima?" Rivka looked up as her daughter slowly lowered herself into the chair at the kitchen table._

_"What is it, sweetheart?" Ziva bit her lip, unsure of how to ask._

_"Is... is it scary? Childbirth?" Rivka sighed, taking a seat beside her daughter, and setting a cup of herbal tea in front of her. She thought a moment, before asking,_

_"Are you scared?" A moment passed before Ziva nodded. She stayed silent, trying to find the best way to start this. "It depends, on the woman. Some women are excited becase their babies will be coming, others are terrified."_

_"What were you?" Rivka chuckled softly. _

_"When you were born, I was excited; you were my first, Zivaleh, and I was excited that I would finally get to meet you. And then, as labor progressed, I began to get terrified. I kept saying that I was not ready to be a mother, that I would not be a good mother, that I could not give birth, but everything changed when I heard your first cry and held you against my chest." She reached out, caressing her daughter's head. "I know it is scary, sweetheart, but once he is born, and you are holding him against your chest, you will see that it all was worth it."_

She sighed. "As I got closer to birth, they were down every two or three days. By the time I had reached the last week of my pregnancy, they had come down and were staying with me almost every day. Tali would do her homework at the house, keep me company. I got restless as it got closer."

_The bed was warm, big. Big enough for her gigantic belly._ _She had been unable to find a comfortable position for the last four months, and today was no exception. So instead, she lay in bed, nude, tracing patterns on the skin of her tummy. Shifting onto her back, she turned to glance out the window, but ignored the time on the clock. Rivka and her siblings wouldn't be over until after Tali got out of school; she had the whole morning and early afternoon to herself. So she took to tracing the curve of her stomach. If she laid both hands beneath the huge mound of her belly, she could cradle it, and it made her think of cradling her son once he came. "It is not fair, that your Abba is not here. But I know, that if he were, he would tell you everyday that he loves you, and that he would be just as amazed as I am; I know he would not want to miss a moment of watching you grow."_

_She was due any day_._ Taking a deep breath, she let her fingers trace over the stretch marks on her skin. Her mother had told her that the marks were common, and that most women wore them like a badge of honor. But she couldn't see it._

_After some struggle, she was able to get out of bed, and waddled over to the mirror. Her belly was huge, protruding in front of her, so round that her fingers could barely touch beneath her belly. Swallowing, she gently caressed the skin, whispering, "I wish your Abba was here. I need him. He needs to experience this with me; you are his, he needed to be here to watch you grow, to feel you move, and he was not. And I do not know if I will ever see him again. But I do know, that if he knew about you," She took a deep breath, sniffling. "That he would love you, and would not want to be away from you. No matter where he is, you are his son, and you will always be his son."_

She met Tim's gaze, tears in her eyes. "I made sure, that he understood, from the moment I discovered he was growing in my belly, that he knew that no matter what, he was your son. I know it was wrong, but..."

Genlty, Tim took her face in his hands, shaking his head as he brushed the tears off her cheeks. "No, no, no, Ziva. It wasn't wrong at all. I'm glad you told him, I... I just wish I'd been there for you. I wish to God I'd been there for you."


	18. Chapter 18

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

**Thanks to mcgeeksgirl for reviewing 17; Sazzita for reviewing 16 and 17; Reader for reviewing 15, 16 and 17.**

She turned to them all, giving them a soft smile. "I... I cannot even begin to describe how painful it was. Eighteen hours." She saw Tony cringe and chuckled. "But I assure you, it was worth it. I heard him cry, and... and then Ari laid him in my arms, against my chest, and... I had never seen anything more beautiful." She turned back to Tim after glancing at Asher. "Except you."

"Ari?" Tony was not the only one to pick up on the name. Ducky, Abby, Gibbs, they all sat up a little straighter at the name. Ziva turned to them, nodding.

"_Ken._ Ari delivered my son."

"Ari who?" Sarah asked, the only one of the group not understanding the signifigance of the name. Ziva swallowed, sighing.

"Dr. Ari Haswari. He is my half-brother."

"He's also a Hamas terrorist." Gibbs replied. Ziva turned on him; hackles rising at the attack on one of her family.

"Ari Haswari is_ not_ a terrorist! He is a Mossad officer working undercover in Hamas! I am his control officer, I_ know_ him!"

"Are you sure you are not getting him confused with the man who delivered your son, Officer David?" Gibbs asked, stepping up to her. She pulled herself up to her full height, refusing to back down.

"I will _prove_ to you that Ari is not a terrorist!"

"Just like those terrorists didn't kill those Israeli athletes in Munich? Or what about the suspected terrorist in Norway in 'seventy-three?" She grabbed the front of his shirt, yanking him closer.

_"That mistake cost us dearly!"_ She screamed. But Gibbs calmly removed the young woman's hands, stepping back.

"Is this the kind of life you wanted your son to lead, Officer David? Become an assassin in Mossad and die before thirty? Do as you are doing, and not live to have his own family? Is this the life you wanted to expose Tim too? Is that why you came to find Tim?" He was pushing, trying to get the young woman to admit a mistake, but she refused. Instead, she turned, hands on her hips.

"Ari is not a terrorist. I would not have allowed him around Asher if I had known. I will not expose my son to that life, Agent Gibbs. I _have_ not. But if what you say is true-"

"Then we will let the press-" Ziva tilted her head to the side, raising an eyebrow as she spoke, hands slipping into her back pockets after tossing her bags down to the floor with a roll of her dark eyes.

"Are you threatening to go to the media?" Tim chuckled softly; there was the girl he remembered in Israel, the inquisitive, eager girl he'd been attracted to. Gibbs raised an eyebrow.

"If that is what it takes-" She shook her head, turning back to Tim.

"How do you put up with him?" She asked, stepping closer. He shrugged.

"It gets easier." Sarah again raised a hand.

"Um, Timmy?" When the siblings locked eyes, she licked her lips, asking, "So... if... if he's your kid..."

"He is, Sarah. I know he is. It all makes sense, and Ziva-" He stopped. She nodded, understanding.

"So..." She glanced around, wondering exactly how many people she would be pissing off when she asked. "So since you and Officer David have a kid, and... and had a kid when we were in Israel, so... so does that mean that he's-" She pointed to the boy, who looked up, suddenly shy, before ducking his head back down. "that he's my nephew?" Tim and Ziva shared a glance. He rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Sar, Asher is your nephew."

* * *

><p>"What do I have to prove to you-"<p>

"You don't have to prove anything to me, Ziva." She grabbed his arm on the way back to the bullpen, the boy in tow. "He's my son. Everything, the whole story, it fits. And he looks like me. You can run a DNA test if you want, but I can tell you already, the results will come back positive." She watched him go into the bullpen, as Asher came up and took her hand.

"_Ima_?" She glanced down at him, taking his hand. A moment passed, before she leaned down and pressed a kiss to his head. She started to say something, when her phone rang.

"Go with _Abba_, my angel." Once he was gone, she grabbed the phone, moving to the window and turning to stare out at the rain. "_Shalom_."

"_Shalom_, Zivaleh." Her heart jumped in her ribcage as her brother's voice penetrated her brain.

"Ari-"

"I trust that he knows?" She nodded, glancing over her shoulder, to see Asher approach his father. Tim gave the boy a small smile, before getting up and leading him to the break room.

"_Ken_, he knows. He knew the moment he saw my son-"

"Good. Asher deserves to be with his father. That is the reason I spared him at the shootout the day Agent Todd died." She longed to ask, but knew better to. "I have a favor to ask, Zivaleh." She held her breath. "I want to see my nephew, Ziva."

"Ari-"

"He needs to know, that I am not doing this because of him, that there was once good in me, and that he is one of the things that once provided it. I do not want my nephew to remember his uncle as a killer who took lives; only the doctor who gave life. Please." She sighed.

"Fine. Asher and I- we are staying with Tim until our things arrive from Israel. I can get you the address-"

"I know where Tim lives, Zivaleh."

"Ari- I do not want to lose you too."

"You will not. Once this is over, we will meet in Paris and start anew. All four of us. Until then. _Shalom_." As the line went dead, she glanced over her shoulder, to see Tim come back with Asher, but the image blurred as the tears in her eyes slipped down her cheeks and dripped from her chin.


	19. Chapter 19

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

Childish laughter greeted her as she returned to the bullpen; the others were watching silently as Asher slowly peeled apart his NutterButter, licking off the peanut butter before eating the cookies. "Well, what is this?" Both looked up as she stopped by Tim's desk, hands on her hips in mock surprise. The boy held out another cookie.

"They are cookies, _Ima_! With peanut butter!" Ziva raised an eyebrow.

"I can tell. You know how? You have peanut butter all over you." She went to her son, painting him with kisses as the boy giggled.

"_Ima_!" Tim sat back, watching the two of them. How could he have missed this? How could he have possibly missed these last eight years of his son's life? Hearing his first word, teaching him to walk, helping him learn his letters, how could he possibly have missed all of that? He understood, but still, she shouldn't have had to suffer alone. When Ziva looked up, their eyes locked, and she gave him a soft smile before it was replaced with worry.

"Tim, can we talk?" He nodded, but she looked around, finally moving around the desk and taking his hand. She pulled him to his feet, and then ruffled Asher's hair as they left the bullpen. "You stay here, my angel." Once they were gone, Asher turned to find everyone watching him. Suddenly self-conscious, he ducked his head, until Sarah's voice broke the silence.

"Hey, you like peanut butter, right?" He looked up into Sarah's green eyes and nodded. She grinned. "Have you ever tried it on a pizza?"

* * *

><p>Once the bathroom door closed, Ziva turned to Tim. "What's so important that we had to leave the bullpen, Ziva?" She sighed, taking a deep breath. "Ziva, you can tell me. You're the mother of my son, that was a big enough secret. Anything else is... miniscule compared to Asher." A moment passed, before she met his gaze.<p>

"Ari called me. He... he wants to... to see Asher." Tim sighed, turning away, but Ziva grabbed his hand. "He wants to meet at your apartment, and see his nephew again. He wants to let Asher know that he was never always the man Gibbs turned him into. That there was once good in him. That he once gave life instead of taking it. Tim," She reached up, turning his chin back to her. "He brought our son into the world. He delivered Asher. My brother... my brother was good once too, Tim. He was not always the killer my father turned him into. Please."

The young agent through a moment, weighing the options. "Fine. But I am not leaving you two alone with him." She gave him a small smile.

_"Toda."_

* * *

><p>Tim had left the news on; the smell of chicken filled the small apartment. He had pulled a couple books off the shelf, looking for one he'd lost, and left them on the table. At one point, he glanced into the small living room and found Asher reading through them. "Are you sure a meal is a good idea, Ziva?" He asked, stirring the pasta. She nodded, sipping her tea.<p>

"It is customary... somewhere in Israeli law, to break bread." Tim snorted softly.

"Well, then, are you sure chicken is kosher?" She chuckled.

"Depends. Was it slaughtered by a _shochet?" _Tim raised an eyebrow, confused. She shook her head. "Never mind. I have never been very good at keeping kosher; especially when I was pregnant. I craved bagels with orange slices and pickles." Tim winced.

"I don't like pickles." She laughed.

"I do not either. But it is what I wanted, so-" She stopped when she noticed Tim's attention stray to the living room again. "He loves to read."

"But _The Great Gatsby_?" She nodded.

"He is brilliant; he reads everything he can get his hands on. When he was small, I would take him to the small library in Be'er Sheva, and he would sit for hours, in a corner of the library, reading book after book. He makes up his own stories as well." Before Tim could say a word, a knock sounded, and he rushed to get it. He didn't hide the surprise to find Ari on the other side, and after a moment, stepped back to allow the other man entrance. As soon as he stepped inside, Asher looked up, dropping the book and climbing off the sofa.

"_Shalom_, Tim-"

"_Ari Dohd_!" Tim watched in silent shock as his son rushed towards the other man; Ari knelt down, embracing him once the boy got close enough. He watched as the man who killed Kate lifted the boy off his feet; no longer was he staring at the cold-blooded killer, but the kind, gentle doctor, who had helped his sister through labor and birth, who had delivered their son. He watched in silence as Ziva went to him and kissed his cheek.

* * *

><p>Dinner was quiet at first, but once things loosened up, the conversation flowed slowly. Asher told Ari of all the fascinating things he'd seen in America in the last twenty-four hours, and told of how Tim had introduced him to Nutter Butters, the boy's fascination that they were cookies. Eventually, Tim found himself loosening up around the older man, seeing not of the killer Gibbs was obsessed with, but the doctor that had looked after Ziva while she was pregnant, that had protected her and cared for her after the two young lovers were forced to part. Tim made it very clear that he wouldn't let anything harm Ziva or Asher, and that he'd give his own life to keep them safe.<p>

By the time dinner finished and Ari went to leave, Asher had attached himself to his uncle, and all but sobbed when Ari went to leave. The older man knelt down, taking the boy's shoulders. "Listen to me, Asher. Your Abba is a wonderful man. He is a strong man, and he will do all he can to keep you safe. You have to stay with Ima and Abba."

"But I do not want you to go-" Tears filled the boy's eyes and gently, Ari wiped them away.

"I have to. But I came here tonight because I wanted you to remember that I was not always the man they accuse me of being. There is still good in me. There was always good in me. And you are part of the reason why. Okay?" He nodded. Ari pulled the boy into a hug, whispered softly to him and then pressed a kiss to his head. Then, he stood, turning to Tim and Ziva. "I am glad you finally found Asher's father, Zivaleh. Good. You and Asher need Tim. Keep them close, Zivaleh, and never let them go." He pressed a kiss to her cheek and then turned to Tim, smiling softly. As he pulled the man into a hug, he whispered,

"_This_ is why I spared you that day."


	20. Chapter 20

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

He leaned against the doorway, watching as Ziva gently tucked the blanket around their son. She whispered softly to him in Hebrew, tapping his nose and making him smile. Then, she whispered softly to him and pressed a kiss to his forehead before turning off the light and turning off the light. As he stepped back and allowed her to join him in the hall and shut the door, he said, "You have quite a way with him." She followed him into the kitchen, accepting the cup of tea he offered her.

"Of course I have a way with him. He is my son-" She stopped, meeting his gaze. "He is... _our_ son." He smiled softly at her, and then he set his cup down, lost in thought. "What is it? Is something wrong?" He shook his head, turning and leaning back against the counter, hands gripping the edge.

"No, I just... I keep thinking to what Ari told me tonight."

"What did he say?" Tim licked his lips, thinking. Then, he turned his gaze to her, "He... he told me that.. 'This is why I spared you that day.'"

"I do not understand." Her brown eyes sparked with confusion, and he sighed, his voice becoming thick with tears as he spoke.

"He was... he was talking about the shootout at the warehouse. The day Kate died." He swallowed thickly. "I was down on the ground, working on the transmitter, trying to stop the drone from hitting its target-"

"What was its target?" He sighed, closing his eyes briefly.

"Military families, waiting to welcome back loved ones to come off the ships docking into Norfolk Harbor." She let out a soft gasp, not wanting to believe it. Tim nodded. "At one point, I looked up at the sound of gunfire; by then, the drone had taken off, and I was trying to stop it. The next thing I know, I'm in the crosshairs, and as I ducked for cover to return fire, I felt a bullet fly past; it hit the transmitter instead. It was Ari that targeted me. I was his first target, and then he went after Kate. And he killed her." He sniffled. "He must have known that I had some connection to you, otherwise, he would have killed me then and there." She licked her lips.

"He knows that you are Asher's father." She took a deep breath. "I was a virgin when we met. We both were. Ari watched us, he tried to protect us, and when you were ripped from me, he did all he could to make sure Asher and I were safe. He looked after me after I got pregnant." She moved closer, reaching up to cradle his face in her hand. "He knows how much you mean to me. And... I... I cannot accept the possibility that my brother would try to _murder_ the man I _love_-"

Slowly, Tim pulled away. She watched him, not understanding why he was being so skittish all of a sudden. He licked his lips, shaking his head, scattering his thoughts. He took a deep breath, licking his lips. "I... I will be right back." She watched him grab his cell off the kitchen table and then move to the door, slipping into the hall.

He came back a few minutes later, giving her a soft smile. "Sarah's coming over, we're gonna talk." He licked his lips. "Don't you need to be at Gibbs' place soon?" She looked up at him, nodding as she remembered Gibbs' whispered words,

_"I'm counting on you to back me up."_

"Yeah, I... I had better go. I... I will be back soon." Tim nodded, not meeting her gaze.

* * *

><p>She couldn't do this. She couldn't stand behind the basement door and shoot her brother if Gibbs was right. But she had promised him that she would back him up if it came to that. While it pained her to be away from Asher and Tim, she made a promise to Gibbs and had to keep it. Besides, it didn't seem like Tim wanted her around right then anyway.<p>

Voices could be heard, down in the basement, and she sighed, leaning her head back. Subconsciously, her hand moved to ghost over her stomach; an old habit she'd gotten used to when she was pregnant and her belly was growing and moving with the soft kicks and rollings of her son. This wasn't true; Ari was no killer. He was a doctor. He had delivered her son, for God's sake, his hands were used to give life, not take it. Her head lifted and her hand stopped at the raised voices.

"I wish I hadn't had to shoot Caitlan."

"Then why did you?"

"To cause you pain."

"I piss you off that much?"

"Not you, my father. You have the misfortune of reminding me of the bastard." She sucked in a breath, her own mind going back to the bastard in question. The one who had sent her mother into divorce, who had left Tali to die in the streets of Tel Aviv instead of instructing she be taken to a hospital, who had ripped the only man she ever loved from her arms and beat him, before disowning her and trying to kill both her and unborn child by shoving her down the stairs. Yes, he was a bastard, but he was still their father. She, Ari, Tali, they all shared his blood. Asher... She choked on a sob. Her son also carried that bastard's blood in his veins.

"He didn't marry your mother."

"That's what makes me a bastard, not him. From the moment of my birth, he groomed me to be one thing, his mole in Hamas. Sent me to Edinburgh to become a doctor, so I could work in the Gaza camps along my mother. When Ziva got pregnant, I helped take her out of Tel Aviv, to Be'er Sheva. And when Asher was born, I delivered him. It was one of the last good things I did before turning on the man that disowned my sister and tried to killer her and my nephew." He sighed. "By then, my mother had been killed, and I had no trouble joining the Iz Adin Al-Kassam."

"You don't really believe you father had your mother killed or tried to kill your sister and nephew?"

"It was a retaliatory Israeli strike that happened on a day when I was in Tel Aviv, visiting him. And I watched as he shoved Ziva down the stairs. She was five months pregnant; she had hidden it, but... I wanted to kill the bastard and I nearly did, but only Ziva's pleading stopped me." He swallowed, thinking back on his nephew, that eight-year-old little boy, who was finally with his father. He knew that Tim would take good care of both Asher and Ziva. "After decades of planning, he finally had his mole in Hamas, but he never knew how much I hated him. I wish I could see his face, when he realizes he created not a mole, but a monster, eager to strike at the heart of Mossad and Israel."

"I almost feel sorry for you."

"And I for you." He stood.

"And Tim? Why did you target Tim at the warehouse before turning to Kate?"

"I intended to kill him, in order to cause you pain. But when I saw him through the scope and realized who he was, and who he looked like, I stopped. I remembered meeting him in Israel, when he was a teenager, and how attracted to him my sister was. How they got along, and how their one night together both destroyed her and freed her. Yes, he took her virginity and she his, but he left her with something that would give her a new chance in life."

"Asher." He nodded.

"Yes. Your agent gave my sister that little boy. And when I delivered him, she was so scared, so frightened, but as soon as I laid him against her chest, she realized that it was just not about her anymore. She had a piece of your agent back, and her heart would heal. And when I saw who he was, I spared him. I hit the transmitter instead of him, because I knew if I took him, Ziva would never forgive me. That day at the warehouse, I thought of Asher, and of Ziva. And I thought of how your agent had given my sister the most precious thing in the world. He had given my little sister the very gift that saved her."

"Saved her how?"

"All through her pregnancy, I watched her change, not just physically, but emotionally, mentally. She spent most of her time daydreaming, of a life with the father of her child, a chance at a family, a home. The one thing Ziva has always wanted, but never had. She began thinking like a mother, how best to protect her child once he came into the world. And whenever she doubted herself, I told her to remember that the man she loved would always be in her heart."

"So you spared Tim, and in sparing Tim, you had to take Kate instead?"

"I killed Caitlin to cause you pain. I spared Tim to give him a chance with his son. I knew, that if I took Tim, that Ziva would never forgive me, and that her soul would have blackened, and that not even Asher's existence would be able to save her. Asher has kept her soul clean and her heart light. Tim did that for her. In giving her Asher, he saved her from the deepest evil she'll ever face. Our father."

She could hear their footsteps as they moved around the basement, and after a moment, peeked around the doorframe. "When Ziva told me you were placing flowers on the roof where Caitlin died, I couldn't believe it; such a romantic touch, and it was almost too good to pass up. Almost."

"Why did you?"

"I need you to commit suicide with your own rifle. You never did give me enough credit in our game. I knew it was a trap before Ziva told me you asked her to cover you. You'd never trust Ziva. Whether she had had a child with your agent or not, you would never trust her." He thought a moment. "And you need to kill me, taste the sweetness of revenge."

She watched as Gibbs moved to the steps, and then caught sight of Ari taking aim. "I've killed enough men in my life, Ari. It's going to be just as sweet watchin' you die."

He raised the gun, and she took her own aim, hearing her brother's last words, ring loud in the quiet basement. "Sorry to spoil your-"

The shot rang out, hitting him in the forehead and blowing the back of his head out, sending him to the floor in a pool of his own blood, eerily reminiscent of Kate. She struggled for several moments to reign in her emotions, before taking a deep breath and stepping onto the stairs. Gibbs looked back at her, and then got up, picking up the rifle from the floor as she stepped onto the cold cement floor.

"His father is the Deputy Director in Mossad?" She nodded, swallowing.

"Yes."

"Not David." She nodded again, swallowing the tears clogging her throat.

"Yes. What I told everyone in Jenny's office is true. He is my half-brother." As Gibbs passed, he squeezed her hand in solace. As the soft Hebrew prayer left her lips, she wrapped her arms around herself, thinking of Tim, and how she'd never been more grateful for Ari's final act of kindness.


	21. Chapter 21

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

**A/N: It's time for Sarah to learn Tim's secret...**

"Timmy, what's so important that you needed to talk to me alone?" He handed Sarah the mug, taking a seat beside her on the sofa. He'd slipped out before Ziva left to call his sister and ask her to come over so they could talk about what happened the day he and Ziva got caught. He glanced down at his cup, and took a deep breath.

"Sarah, what do you remember about the night after the embassy dinner?" She stared at him strangely, before licking her lips.

"Um... Daddy was pissed. When the embassy security didn't find you, he sent Mom and I back to the apartment. When I woke up the next morning, Daddy said you'd been hurt and were at the hospital. After I got dressed, he and Mom took me there." Tim nodded; he remembered well the attack in Ziva's room, and while they had learned of that today in Director Shepard's office, they hadn't learned about what happened after. "Timmy?" She leaned over, trying to meet her brother's gaze. "What happened when we got home from the hospital?" He sighed, and she set the cup on the table, reaching out to take the cup from his hand. Once done, she took his hand, squeezing. "Timmy, please, you're scaring me." But he only stared at their hands, silent. She swallowed, struggling to hide the fear in her voice. "Timmy, what did Daddy do? What did he do to you? Please, tell me."

He met her eyes, and then took her face in his hand, resting his forehead to hers. "I don't want you to think any differently about me than you already do." He pressed a kiss to her temple.

"What do you mean, Timmy?" She asked, pulling away to look at him, her green eyes wide with fear. "What happened?" But he only pulled her closer, resting his lips against her hair.

"I have _always_ loved you, Sar, no matter what. You're my baby sister, you will always be my baby sister, no matter what Mom and Dad say. Remember that."

The tears were openly flowing down her cheeks now, as he kissed her hair again, and squeezed her hand. "Timmy, you're_ scaring_ me." He pulled away, getting up. After checking that Asher was still asleep- Sarah couldn't help the thrill that went through her as she saw the Daddy in her brother come out- he returned to the living room, and began pacing.

"Dad sent you to your room not long after we got back from the hospital."

_He watched his little sister go, never feeling so relieved to hear the click of the door behind her. Because he knew then that she wouldn't see what their father had in store for his oldest. He took a deep breath, hearing his mother's voice and knowing that while she loved him, she ultimately supported John's punishment because she had no choice. "John, you don't have to do this now. It was a mistake, a spur-of-the-moment accident. Nothing is going to happen. They were careful. This will all blow over in the morning-"_

_"Were you careful, boy? Timothy!" His head snapped up, and he met his father's cold green eyes. "Were you careful when you fucked the Deputy Director's daughter last night." He winced at how one word could ruin a night of beautiful passion. He heard his mother gasp. _

_"Oh, Tim." _

_"And if she ends up pregnant with your bastard?" _

_"I'll be there to support her." His father laughed._

_"You'll support her. How sweet, such a romantic notion." He struck his son hard, nearly sending the boy's head around. His mother did nothing; while she didn't support the abuse, she wasn't too keen on giving up her position as the Ambassador's wife, and wouldn't allow anything to take it away; if it came to her son or her social standing, her social standing came before her children. "Do you know what you've just done? You've just destroyed any hope of talking with Mossad! Of drawing up contracts of any kind with Israel! All because you wanted a tumble with the oldest daughter of Mossad's director!" He struck him again, but the boy didn't move to stop him. "Take off your shirt and turn around."_

_Tim stood his ground. For the first time, he met his father's gaze willingly. "If Ziva is pregnant, I won't abandon her. I'll be there for my child, through everything! I'll be more of a father than you've ever been!" _

_John grabbed his son's shoulders, forcing him around with a shove._ _He grabbed the poker from the fireplace, and then silently, studied the stitches along his son's back and shoulders. Then, without a word, he took the poker and ran it along his son's back, opening each stitch until blood began to pour freely. Tim didn't flinch or cry out at all, and his mother did nothing to stop the abuse. Once the stitches were open, he took the poker and proceeded to beat him with it. Even when his son fell to his knees, he continued until Tim's back was a bloody mass of mangled skin. When he finished, he tossed the poker aside, pulled the boy to his feet, and whispered, "You will be on the first flight out tonight. And if I ever, ever hear from you or see you again, or find out you've contacted Sarah, I won't hesitate to kill you. Are we clear?" _

_Tim didn't respond. He shoved Tim towards his wife. "What about Sarah? You're just going to leave her here? How do I know you won't do the same to her?" _

_"Because my daughter is a good child. You and that little Israeli slut deserve everything you get. You are no son of mine!"_

Sarah looked up at Tim. She shook her head. "No, Daddy wouldn't do that... he... he wouldn't..." Slowly, Tim unbuttoned his shirt and turned, shrugging the shirt off his shoulders, revealing the various scars on his back. Sarah sobbed harder. _"Oh, Timmy! I'm so sorry..."_

Eyes dry, Tim pulled his shirt back on and turned to his sister. "The doctors said it was a miracle I wasn't paralyzed, but Dad knew what he was doing. If he'd paralyzed me, his career would be over. I convinced him to let you come with me, and after I dropped you off at Penny's, I went off to John Hopkins and then MIT. Dad disowned me, cut me off completely, so I went to school on scholarships and worked the rest of the time. And I thought about Ziva a lot."

"And now she's here, and you have an eight-year-old little boy." He nodded, taking a seat beside her.

"Yeah, we do. And you know what? Finding Ziva and Asher, it's one of the best things to happen to me. Sarah, I'm a_ father_. And I am going to be better than Dad ever was. Asher and Ziva come first. I will never put my career before them._ Never_. I've been given a chance to break the cycle, and I'm going to. I lost them once, I won't lose them ever again." He reached up, taking her face in his hands. "Sarah, you have to know that I love you, I have always loved you. You're my baby sister. And you have a nephew that you can spoil rotten. I just... I need to know that this doesn't make you think any differently of me. Please." She reached up, brushing a stray tear away.

"Timmy, you're my big brother. The only thing that's changed, is that you're stronger. You're stronger than Daddy; you protected Ziva and Asher before you ever found out about him. You're already more of a father than Daddy ever was, and I'm so proud of you. I love you, Timmy." She wrapped her arms around him, breaking down. He held her close, relief flooding him. He pressed a kiss to her hair, squeezing her tight.

"Thank you."

On the other side of the door, Ziva was sitting on the floor in the hall, struggling to contain her tears, Tim's words ringing in her head.


	22. Chapter 22

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

**Thanks to JonnyP86 and Tiva-McAbby-Densi-Neric-4ever for reviewing 19; Sazzita for reviewing 20 and 21; mcgeeksgirl for reviewing 21; and Reader for reviewing 18, 19, 20 and 21. **

_His father did to him what Abba did to you, only instead of shoving him down the stairs, he beat him with a fireplace poker. Repeatedly. And he endured it. But why? For what reason?_ Her heart screamed the true answer, as her hand subconsciously ghosted over her stomach, in an old habit she couldn't quite break. _For you, of course. For you and the baby he didn't even know existed._

Ziva quickly climbed to her feet, wiping her eyes dry as the apartment door opened and Sarah stepped out. "Oh, Ziva. Sorry, I didn't... I didn't mean to scare you." The Israeli shook her head, giving her a small smile.

"No, you are fine." She sniffled. Sarah watched her for a moment, before moving to go.

"Well, goodnight." Ziva nodded softly to her, moving open the door when Sarah turned back. "Um, Ziva?" As the young Israeli turned, Sarah threw her arms around her shoulders, pulling her into a tight hug. Ziva's eyes widened in shock, and she awkwardly patted Sarah's back. The younger girl took a deep, shaky breath, whispering, "I know that Asher was unplanned, but he is the _best_ thing possible that you could have done for Tim. And I know it basically ruined your life, but Timmy is so happy to have you and Asher in his life, and he deserves it; you both do. You're good for each other. Timmy gave you a beautiful gift, and you've given him one in return. Don't take it away from him, Ziva, please. You deserve to be happy, and you'll make each other happy. I _know_ you will."

When she pulled away, Ziva gave her a small smile. She watched the other woman disappear down the stairs before going into the apartment to find Tim sitting on the sofa, lost in thought. The tea he'd made earlier sat cold on the table, but he didn't notice. When she shut the door, he looked up, green eyes filled with worry. "How did it go at Gibbs'?" She took a deep breath.

"Ari is dead. I had no choice." She dropped onto the sofa beside him and lay back, swallowing. Glancing over at him, she reached for him. "I know what your father did to you, Tim. I heard everything. And I am so sorry." He sighed, shaking his head.

"Old history. It doesn't matter now. What matters now is the present, and-" He glanced towards the bedrooms. "And our son." She gave him a small smile, as he reached down and gently laced their fingers together. After a moment, she shifted closer, laying her head on his shoulder. They sat in silence for several minutes, before Tim looked at her. "I'm sorry, that it came to that. Having to kill your brother. But you are not completely alone; you have Asher and I, and your mother-" She shook her head.

"_Ima_ is dead. Killed in the same Hamas bombing that took Tali from the world. They found her body first."

"And Tali?" He swallowed, thinking of the ten-year-old with the curled pigtails, blue overalls and pink sneakers with the heart stickers. She was adorable, following Ziva around wherever she went; asking all sorts of questions and playing games with Sarah. It didn't seem right, that a child with so much promise had such a short life.

"They never found her body. But a blast like that... for anyone to survive, it would be a miracle." She swallowed. "My siblings and my mother are all dead and buried; I am all but dead to Eli... Asher is my only link to my past, and it is only for him that I remember." She snuggled close, nuzzling into his shoulder, tears slipping down her cheeks. "I have no home in Israel; no place to call my own. But I also have no place to call my own here. Our things do not arrive until next week, and even then, I do not know if I will be accepted here, if our son will be accepted here." She sighed, sniffling. "My home is gone. My life is gone. I think, that I have never known loneliness more than at this moment." She snuggled even closer, not to pressure him into anything, but because she was desperate for some sense of comfort, of companionship.

Tim gently squeezed her hand, thinking. This was the girl he remembered from that night in Tel Aviv. The Ziva everyone saw was just a front; deep down, the young woman was a cuddler, desperate for some sense of compassion and love- a love her father had always denied her. He had spent that night whispering softly to her and caressing her, making soft promises that, thanks to their parents, he wouldn't be able to keep. They had whispered of building a life, a home together...

He turned, watching her silently. "What if..." He stopped. He shouldn't even be considering this. He barely knew this woman, yet..._ Yet you share a child. You created that little boy sleeping in the other room. Like it or not, she is the mother of your son. Maybe this will be the first step into getting to know the girl you left behind, and falling in love with the woman who took her place._

"What if what?" She asked softly, staring down at their hands. His fingers were long, beautiful. She had never seen a man's fingers as long as Tim's, but then again, she had never been involved with many men, not since Asher's birth. As soon as they found out she had a son born out of wedlock, they ran, not wanting to risk contamination. She had never kissed another man, let alone done anything else. They never let it get that far. And the only man she wanted had been ripped from her as teenagers, and he now sat beside her again, after all these years, and yet she was too scared to do anything but hold his hand, for fear he too would run.

Tim took a deep breath, staring down at her face, watching as his words escaped his lips and made their way towards her brain. "What if... we got a place. Together."

She sighed, closing her eyes and nuzzling his shoulder. "That would be nice."

He watched, paying careful attention to her beautiful features as the words entered her head and finally, after several silent minutes, penetrated her brain. Her dark eyes opened and her head snapped up in shock. "What did you say?"


	23. Chapter 23

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

She had to have heard wrong. Had he really just suggested they get an apartment together? She pulled away, letting go of his hand and pulling her hair off her shoulders. "I... I am sorry, Tim, but... did you just... did you just say that... that we should..." He nodded. She bit her lip, a myriad of emotions dancing across her face. He licked his lip, before getting up.

"It was just a suggestion." He grabbed the mug and headed into the kitchen, pouring the cold tea down the sink and starting a fresh pot. She sighed, getting up and following.

"I am sorry, Tim. I did not mean to hesitate, but... but it is just... such a big step and..."

"And we hardly know each other, I know. I was just thinking, because we have Asher, and... that maybe that would make the transition to America a little easier for him, if he had both his parents in the same apartment, like he does now, than if you moved into your own." He glanced around. "Besides, this place is... getting a little cramped, if you haven't noticed." Ziva blushed.

"I am sorry. We have taken-" But he set the cup down and laid a finger over her lips. He knew that she had been worried, especially after receiving a call that their things had been delayed and wouldn't arrive until the following week, two at most.

"If I didn't want you here, I wouldn't have offered." She sighed. "Besides, Asher is my son, and you're his mother; we're a family. And families should stick together." He removed his finger from her lips, and took her chin in his hand. "So, if you want, we can start looking for apartments. But it's entirely up to you." He pressed a kiss to her head, before handing her a mug.

* * *

><p>He awoke to someone shaking him. Still half-asleep, he swatted the person away, but the shaking continued, this time followed by a small voice. "<em>Abba<em>?" His eyes slowly fluttered open and he looked up to find Asher standing over him. Shaking the sleep away, he pushed himself to his elbow.

"What is it, is something wrong?" The boy swallowed.

"I... I had a nightmare. Can I sleep with you?"

"What about_ Ima_?"

"I do not want to wake her-" Tim nodded, stopping him, and then pulled the covers back. The boy quickly scrambled under the blankets, watching as Tim gently tucked them back around him. "_Abba_?" His father looked up, green eyes sleepy.

"Yes?" Slowly, Asher licked his lips, choosing his words carefully.

"Are we really going to live together, like a real family?" Tim started; he hadn't been aware that the boy had even been awake, let alone listening. How did he explain this to a child, to his son? He bit his lip.

"If your _Ima_ agrees, then yes, we'll get an apartment. As a family." The boy seemed to relax, giving him a small smile.

* * *

><p>She shifted, but the feel of her hand laying on cold blankets jolted her awake, and she sat up. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she realized why her senses had gone on such high alert. Asher was gone. Quickly climbing out of bed, slipped out of the bedroom, checking the rest of the apartment, her mind going to the worst.<p>

Her son was missing. What if someone had come in and taken him? What if he'd gone against his will? A whole host of worse-case scenarios began shifting through her head, and just as she returned to the room to grab her phone, she stopped, turning towards Tim's room. Something told her that the one room she hadn't checked would hold the key to her worries, and silently, she went to the door, slowly and silently pushing it open.

Her heart instantly relaxed its frantic beat.

Tucked in the bed, snuggled in his father's arms, was Asher, sound asleep, his head resting on Tim's chest. She leaned against the doorframe, watching her son. He had always been a cuddler, much like she was, but especially after he had a nightmare. And as a child in Israel, nightmares were a constant occurrence, what with the drone strikes, suicide bombings and various attacks by the Palestinians. She herself remembered the numerous times she'd climb into bed with her parents and hide, while the drones and planes flew overhead, filling the air with smoke and the cries of those unfortunates caught in the crossfire. Tali, even at sixteen, had climbed into bed with her whenever she stayed in Be'er Sheva, and huddled in her sister's arms, listening to her soft lullabies as the drones whistled overhead. They were a part of life in Israel, as much as Judaism and Mossad were. And obviously, something that would take some getting used to now that they were in America. As far as Ziva knew, there were no drone strikes or suicide bombers in America.

_The whistling pierced her hearing before her eyes even opened, suddenly followed the loud cries coming from her son's crib. It took a few moments for her to realize what was going on, but once she did, she climbed out of bed and made her way to the crib. Tali sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "What is wrong? Zivaleh?"_

_But the young mother ignored her, turning on the light and leaning over the crib. Tali was staying with her for the week, while Rivka was back in Tel Aviv, and wouldn't return until the weekend. Gently, she knelt down and reached out, scooping her son into her arms. "Oh Asher, oh my son." She pressed a soft kiss to the four-month-old baby's head, holding him against her shoulder. She bounced him gently, humming a soft lullaby as she walked back and forth in the bedroom, as Tali watched from the bed. _

_"They are doing it again. Dropping drones." Tali whispered, dark eyes wide with fear as she watched her sister pace back and forth with her nephew._

_"Do not be ridiculous, Talia. If these are drone strikes, they will not hit Be'er Sheva, they will go after Tel Aviv. It represents more to them than our measly little city does. Hush, my angel." She pressed another kiss to his head. "Hush, my son. No more. They will not harm you, I promise." The baby continued to cry, as Tali ventured,_

_"Maybe it is not just the strike? Maybe he is hungry?" Her sister turned to her, and the girl shrunk back. "It is just a suggestion." Ziva sighed, glancing at her son._

_"Perhaps you are right." She returned to the bed, taking a seat beside her sister and lowering the strap of her tank top, exposing her breast. She shifted the baby into the crook of her arm, and then guided his mouth to her breast, watching as he instantly calmed and began to nurse. She stared into his small, beautiful face, seeing him, and tears instantly welled in her eyes. _

_"Ziva, is something wrong?" Slowly, the young mother met her sister's gaze._

_"No. I just... it is not fair, that his Abba is not here. I am just missing him, is all."_ _She sniffled, before turning her gaze back to her son. Eventually, she shifted her son to her other breast, tugging the first strap back onto her shoulder. "At first, I hated him for putting me in this position, but now..." She sighed, reaching up and gently brushing her fingers over the baby's soft dark hair. "Now, I have never been more grateful to him for giving me this gift."_

She sighed, moving away from the door. Gently, she perched on the side of the bed, reaching up and gently running her fingers through her son's hair. The boy shifted, turning his head as his eyes blinked and he stared at Ziva. "_Ima_?" She gave him a soft smile.

"I just came in to check on you. Go back to sleep, my angel." She stood, leaning over him and pressing a kiss to his head. "Go back to sleep with _Abba_." She had no idea what possessed her, but she pressed a soft kiss to Tim's forehead as well, before slipping out of the room and returning to her own bed.


	24. Chapter 24

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

The strong scent of hot coffee reached his nose, and he stretched, getting up. As he came into the kitchen, he found her sitting at the table, lost in thought. "Good morning."

"Morning, _Ima_." She chuckled as the boy yawned, and dropped into the chair next to his mother.

"Did you sleep well?" The boy nodded. "Good. Did _Abba_ keep the nightmares away?" The boy's head snapped up, green eyes in shock. She chuckled. "I woke up last night, and found you sound asleep with_ Abba_. It is okay, if he can keep the nightmares away, then that is fine-"

"Morning." Both looked up as Tim entered, fixing the collar of his white button-down. The blue jeans he wore gave him a very casual look, and Ziva found herself blushing like a schoolgirl. As he poured a cup of coffee and took a sip, meeting Ziva's gaze. "So, have you considered my suggestion?" Her blush rose deeper, and Asher glanced between his parents, suddenly hopeful.

"We are going to live in an apartment? As a family?" Tim shrugged, clearly putting it all on Ziva's shoulders. Asher turned to his mother, bright green eyes shining with something she hadn't seen before. A moment passed, as Ziva chewed her bottom lip, weighing the options.

What harm could it do, if they looked at apartments? All of Tim's arguments made sense- they did share Asher, he was their son, and they currently had no place to put their things when they did arrive from Tel Aviv. And, no matter how many years passed since their night together as teenagers, they were inexplicably linked together, through Asher. He was their son, their DNA ran in his veins, and he deserved to have his father in his life. He deserved to have what other children had, what neither Tim nor Ziva had ever had: a family.

He deserved to have both his parents there for him, not like it had been the first eight years of his short life, living in Be'er Sheva, with his mother, while his father had been ripped from their lives before Asher had ever made his existence even known. He deserved to have Tim there, to teach him the important things a man needed to know, to help him with his homework and answer his questions about girls. He knew the story of his parents' whirlwind love affair, the single night that had resulted in his conception, and the months of loneliness his mother had endured before giving birth to him. Yes, he knew his parents' backstory, but that was the past. Their present and future was here, with Tim.

Finally, she glanced at Asher before meeting Tim's emerald gaze. A moment passed, before she spoke. "I agree, Tim. I think... I think that is exactly what Asher needs. What we all need. A family." She nodded, becoming more and more sure of her words. "_Ken_. We are a family, and to be a family, we need a place of our own. We need a home." Asher let out a yelp of excitement and launched off his chair, throwing himself into Ziva's arms.

_"Toda, Ima! Toda!"_ She chuckled softly, wrapping her son in her arms and pressing a kiss to his head before he rushed to Tim and threw his arms around his father. "_Toda, Abba!_ I will go get dressed!" Then, without a look back, he rushed back towards the bedrooms. Tim chuckled, glancing at Ziva.

"So," She sighed. "How, exactly, do we start looking for a new home?"

* * *

><p>"Are you sure we cannot do this on our own?" She asked, following Tim up the steps towards the brownstone in Georgetown they were interested in looking at. They'd spent half the morning looking at various apartments and townhouses all over the D.C., area, before finally agreeing that an apartment would probably be best for them at this point. He sighed as they stopped outside the apartment door, waiting for Asher to catch up.<p>

"In my experience, I've found that it's easier to go through someone who knows the business, because they often have insights on apartments you wouldn't find on your own." Once Asher joined them, he took Ziva's hand as Tim pushed the door open and stepped inside Apartment Two-Thirty-Four. The realtor was just finishing up with another couple, and smiled to them as the last couple exited.

"You must be Mr. McGee and Ms. David. I'm glad you could make it." After quickly shaking hands, they were shown the apartment- a nice split level, almost octagonal in shape, four bedroom in a nice, semi-residential area of Georgetown. The beautiful brick and white mortar walls gave it a the feel of a time gone by. The kitchen was moderately sized, with beautiful white cupboards all along the far wall, a nice breakfast nook, big enough for a small dining table, and a good sized island in the center. There was a nice entryway, that led down into the slightly split-level living room by way of two steps. There were at least four big vertical rectangular windows against the left brick wall of the living room, with a fireplace facing them. There was a door just off the wall between the fireplace and kitchen- a linen closet, and then down the hall, were the three bedrooms: the master, with a nice-sized bathroom, and two smaller rooms, with a small bathroom to be shared between the three smaller rooms.

"It is beautiful." Ziva whispered, unable to take her gaze from the living room they'd returned to, afraid she'd miss something. The realtor grinned.

"How about I let you all look around, and meet back downstairs in the lobby." She nodded, not noticing as he left them alone in the apartment.

"Tim, I know you liked some of the other apartments we looked at, but this... this is absolutely- Tim?" She finally looked around, realizing she was alone in the living room, and then, headed back to the bedrooms. "Tim?"

"In here, Ziva." She pushed the door to the smaller back bedroom open, finding Tim leaning against the wall. Each bedroom also had a slight octagonal shape, giving the apartment a slightly cozier feel. There small, slightly cutoff corners could be turned into a small reading nook or play area if so desired.

"What are you-" He nodded into the room, and she followed his gaze; Asher was walking back and forth along the small area, talking to himself. "What is he doing?" Tim glanced at her.

"Apparently, he wants that to be his reading area. He's trying to decide where to put his bookcases and his desk." Ziva nodded, understanding only slightly.

"But if we do not choose-"

"He thinks we're going to. According to our son, this is absolutely the best apartment we've looked at so far, and it wants us to be the people that live here. Can you believe that?" Ziva raised an eyebrow.

"_Ken_, I can." She replied, leaning back against the wall and looking at him. She leaned close, eyes darting briefly to his lips. "Because I feel the same way."


	25. Chapter 25

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

Tim looked up as the waitress set the coffees down in front of them. The three sat outside in front of a small café, not far from the apartment they had just bought. Asher took a bite of his sundae, glancing between his parents. Neither said anything, so lost in their own thoughts were they. Eventually, Ziva broke the silence.

"Thank you, Tim. For buying the apartment." He chuckled softly, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Not a problem. You said it yourself. We're a family. We need our own home." She nodded, reaching out and taking his hand.

"And now, all we need to do is move in and make it look and feel like home." He gave her a soft smile, before glancing at Asher, who quickly returned to his sundae. After several minutes, the waitress brought two pieces of berry pie out and placed one in front of Tim and one in front of Ziva. They shared a confused glance, before Tim stopped the waitress.

"Um, we didn't order-"

"I know." She pointed towards another table, where a young woman sat, reading a book. "She ordered them for you." Both Tim and Ziva followed the waitress's gaze; the woman had her back to them, but her short, chestnut brown curls gave no indication as to who she was.

* * *

><p>Once they were both preoccupied, she dared to sneak a glance over her shoulder. She'd seen them talking with the realtor in Georgetown, just happening to pass by on her bike as they came out of the building and shook the man's hands, and she'd nearly been hit by a car after stopping in the street, she'd been in such shock. She hadn't expected to see them in America, and yet, they were here.<p>

Until they came to the café; she'd had a small inkling that they were who she thought they were, but she hadn't been sure; not until she saw the woman fiddling with her necklace, and then, she was absolutely certain they were the ones she was looking for. Seeing the little boy and his father only confirmed it; how could she forget a child as adorable as him? And his father...

Yes, she had finally found them. Now, she just needed to find a way to approach them.

* * *

><p>"When can we move into the apartment?" Asher asked, holding tight to Ziva's hand as the three head up the stairs to Tim's apartment.<p>

"As soon as your things get here from Tel Aviv, so most likely another week or so." Asher let out a groan of annoyance and stamped his foot.

"That is not fair!"

"Hey! What have I told you?" The boy had the good sense to look ashamed. Ziva had never tolerated tantrums, and had made sure to scold it out of Asher early. It had been hard enough, being a single woman working in Mossad, but to be a single _mother_ working in Mossad had been near impossible, and so she'd made sure that her son was well-behaved and polite early on. _Just like your Abba._

"I am sorry, _Ima_."

"I know it's not fair, Asher, but just be patient. As soon as your things arrive, we can start moving in, and once we're moved in-"

"We will be a family?" The boy asked, looking up at him as he took Tim's hand. He was surprised to feel the small hand tucked willingly within his, and after a moment, he nodded, giving his son a small smile.

"Yes. We will be a family. With a home of our own." The boy grinned, before his mouth dropped in surprise.

"Can I decorate my room anyway I want, _Abba_?" His parents shared a glance. A moment passed, before Ziva replied,

"He has had his own room, but he has never been able to think of it as his." Tim nodded, understanding. As they got to the apartment door, and he pulled out his keys, he let go of his son's hand, turning to him.

"Of course you can." Asher let out a cry, throwing his arms around Tim's waist.

_"Toda, Abba! Toda!"_ His parents watched him dash into the apartment before following.

"I'd say he's excited, wouldn't you?" He asked, turning to Ziva. She chuckled as she removed her coat, and then went to him, taking his hand. She searched his face for several minutes, before,

"Thank you, Tim."

"For what?" She reached up, caressing his cheek.

"You are putting your own life into an upheaval to make Asher more comfortable with his new life in America and his new place in your heart."

"I'm his father, Ziva. He will always have a place in my heart, and... as far as my own life..." He shrugged, reaching up and taking her hand in his. "My life needs some upheaval. A little upheaval is a good thing- especially if it's for the right reason." She chuckled softly, meeting his gaze.

"You do not mind? Me coming back into your life and... bringing the son we created eight years ago? How can you not mind that? I am... sure any other man would deny his paternity-"

"You obviously don't know me as well as you think, Ziva. I would never deny a child of mine, blood or not. If I was told the child was mine, the last thing I would do is turn them away. And Asher..." He laughed, glancing over at the little boy, who was picking through the books on the shelf. "well, anyone that takes one look at him, knows that he's my son." He pressed a kiss to her hand, before leading her into the kitchen and fixing tea. When Asher settled at the table with Tim's copy of _David Copperfield_, his parents shared a glance, chuckling. The boy didn't even look up as Tim's cell rang.

"Tim, what is wrong?" He met her gaze as he stood; she had moved to the sink, putting her mug in the sink after rinsing it.

"I forgot, I have an appointment." He bit his lip, and glanced at her.

"What appointment?" He slipped his phone into his pocket.

"Nothing major, it shouldn't take too long. I should be back in an hour or so." She looked up at him, on the verge of saying something, when his lips met hers in a quick kiss. Asher turned to look at them; they just stared at each other, unsure of what to do or say in response to their surprise, impromptu kiss. Tim stammered for several minutes, before Ziva stepped aside. Once he was gone, she dared to brush her fingers over her lips.


	26. Chapter 26

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

She had spent eight years, dreaming of his kisses. Eight years, reliving that one night of passion, trying to remember his caresses, his kisses, everything about that night. And now, after eight long, lonely, torturous years alone, without him in their lives, they were together, they were a family. And Tim... he had kissed her. Finally, after all this time, in the spur-of-the-moment, he had kissed her, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Her lips still tingled from his kiss, and all she wanted to do was jump up and down and dance around like a child, but she forced herself to remain calm. She could feel Asher's eyes on her, and after a moment, turned to him. Holding out a hand, she whispered, "What is the matter, my angel? Come here, tell me." Slowly, the boy closed his book and went to his mother, sitting on the sofa and curling into his mother's arms. The boy swallowed, looking up at her.

"_Abba_ kissed you." She chuckled softly.

"I know he did." Gently, she reached down, stroking his hair off his face.

"Why did you not kiss him back?" She bit her lip, forcing herself to look into her son's green eyes. How did she tell him that kissing is what led to his existence in the first place? Taking a deep breath, she gently pushed him up, shifting so that she was settled back in the corner of the sofa.

"You have to understand something, my angel." She whispered, reaching out and taking his hand. "When Abba and I met, we were teenagers. The night you were conceived was the first night we had kissed, it was the first night we did everything together. We gave ourselves to each other; and we created you in the process. Asher, my angel, I have gone eight years without your _Abba_ in my life. And I have spent those last eight years dreaming of him, of his touches and his kisses and sharing a life with him that I thought would never happen. I have lived on fantasies and daydreams alone, and-"

"But it_ is_ happening,_ Ima_. We are going to live together. We have a new apartment; we are going to be a real_ family_-"

"I know, my angel." She whispered, reaching out and taking his chin her hand. She gave her son a small smile, loving the enthusiasm sparking in his green eyes. "I know. And once our things arrive from Tel Aviv, we will move into that apartment in Georgetown and have a home of our own. With _Abba_. Forever." She watched as the enthusiasm was soon replaced with worry. "What is it, Asher?"

He bit his lip, before whispering, "Why did _Abba_ leave us? What if he leaves us again? What if he does not love us?"

She saw the plain and blatant fear in her son's eyes, realizing that the story of their love affair must have finally sunk in, and was hitting him full force. He was blaming himself for Tim's disappearance before he was born. Gently, she reached out, taking his face in her hands. "Oh my angel, my blessed angel," Tears came to her eyes, and she struggled to keep them at bay. "_Abba_ did not leave us because he wanted to. He left us eight years ago because he had no choice. Our parents found out, and separated us. _Abba_ was disowned and sent back to America; and I was disowned from my own family as soon as they discovered I was carrying you. He did not leave willingly; he did not want to leave me, and I _know_," She leaned close, brushing her thumb over his cheek. "that if he had known about you, he would not have left you."

Asher thought a moment before asking, "Does he really love us, _Ima_?" She nodded.

"_Ken_. I _know_ he loves us. Because every time I look into his eyes, I see it. I see how much he loves you and how much he loves me, and how important it is for him to make up for as much lost time as he can. I know that he spent as much time dreaming about me as I spent dreaming about him over the years. Believe me, angel, I dreamt of us being a family as much as you have, and I will be just as excited as you once we move into our new home." Without a word, Asher snuggled into his mother's arms, closing his eyes.

* * *

><p>She looked up as the door opened. "Sorry I'm late. I picked up dinner on the way back." She went to him, taking the bags from his arms as he removed his coat.<p>

"I got a call from Tel Aviv while you were gone."

"Really?" She nodded, glancing around him to find Asher still buried in his book. "What did they say?" She grinned at him.

"Our things were on the first flight out yesterday morning, and they arrive in an hour." He gave her a small smile.

"That's great." She nodded, turning to him once she'd unpacked everything from the bags.

"So, I was thinking," She stepped closer, reaching out to take his hand. "Maybe we could go pick up our things and get them moved into the apartment. And maybe, spend the first night in our new home." He thought a moment, rolling his eyes.

"All right- but not the first official night. Tomorrow will be the first official night." She grinned. "You want to repack dinner? I'll pull the car around."

* * *

><p>She glanced towards him, still surprised that he had agreed so easily. Something told her that he was just as eager to get settled into their new life as a family as she was. It had been a quick process, retrieving their things and dropping them off at the apartment before returning to Tim's. Now, they sat at the dinner table, talking over Chinese and laughing as Asher tried to use chopsticks. However, her glance kept going to the living room, where a lone box sat; the only box she refused to leave at the new apartment.<p>

It held the memories of her past, and after they finished dinner and she put Asher to bed, it would be time for her share them with Tim.


	27. Chapter 27

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

The mug was warm in her hands, and she smiled at him. _"Toda."_ He smiled softly at her, as he took a seat. His gaze strayed to the box, and he couldn't help but ask,

"Why didn't you want to leave this at the apartment?" She took a sip and then set the mug on the coffee table, before getting up and picking up the box. When she returned to the sofa, she set the box on the floor at her feet, and opened it up, removing a small, beautifully hand-carved chest. There was a single Star of David on the lid, and gently, she ran her fingers over it, becoming lost in thought.

_"Oh Ima, it is beautiful. What is it for?" Rivka gave her a small smile, and took a seat across from her; the chest between them. _

_"It is to hold all the things that are precious to you during this special time, sweetheart." She noticed the confusion on her daughter's face and chuckled softly. "When this little one," She said, reaching over and laying a hand on the small swell of her daughter's belly. "is no longer a baby in need of your constant care, you are to take the things you gathered during this time, and place them in this chest. It is a memory chest; for the most special time in your life." Rivka sighed. "I had hoped to give you these at your wedding, but... well, life takes surprising turns, as we both know." She said, reaching up and taking her daughter's chin her hand._

_"'These?' Ima, how many-"_

_"Three." Her mother replied. "Your Saba built a series of these; three for you and three for Tali; he was convinced he was going to have lots of great-grandchildren. Each one is meant to hold the memories of each pregnancy, Zivaleh. You are to fill it as you grow and get closer to birth, with photographs, sonograms, little things, and as the baby grows and becomes a child, you are then to place their baby clothing and toys within. It is tradition in my family." _

_Ziva's eyes filled with tears, and she took a deep breath. "Toda, Ima."_

"_Ima_ gave me three, a chest for every child I have, starting with Asher. At that point, she knew that no other children would be in my future, because you were not in it. She told me, that if ever we did find each other, that the other two are to be used; that she did not want Asher to be our only child." She sniffled.

"It's beautiful, Ziva." He whispered, brushing his fingers gently over the smooth woodwork. It reminded him of Gibbs' and his boats. Each built and shaped with tender, loving care. She nodded, and slowly, lifted the lid. Then, she pulled something out, handing it to him.

A stuffed bird.

"One of the neighbors made that for Asher when he was born. When he was a toddler, I used to tell him that if he closed his eyes and thought of something real special that he wanted you to know, then the bird would come to life and fly off to find you and deliver his message to you. I cannot tell you how many times he would come running in to tell me that his bird had flown away and found you." Tears slipped down her cheeks, and gently, Tim brushed them away.

She returned to the chest and removed a small pair of knitted pink booties with white ribbons, along with a small pink jacket and cap. "The older women in Be'er Sheva believe in the old tradition that blue is a girl's color and pink is a boy's because-"

"Pink was the stronger of the two colors, and therefore associated with fire, making it ideal for boys in the early twentieth century. And blue was for girls, because-"

"It was the daintier of the colors and therefore more delicate, as to be associated with water." She nodded, finishing his sentence.

"I've heard that." He chuckled. "I think it fits; he certainly is a strong little boy and very set in his opinions when he feels he is right about something and needs to prove it." She grinned, returning to the chest. She showed him everything, from the clothing to the blankets to the charts her midwife had given her. The last thing she pulled out was a stack, tied with a green ribbon. Setting the chest gently on the coffee table, she scooted closer, until they were touching, and untied the ribbon. "What are these?"

She took a deep breath. "Letters, that I had written over the course of my pregnancy. For you. But I never found your address, and so they sat in my desk, collecting dust, until I placed them in here with the photographs. I told myself if I ever did find you, I would give them to you, and..." She shrugged, tears gathering in her eyes. "And hope you did not turn your back on us."

He reached up, caressing her cheek. "Oh, Ziva." She sniffled. "I could never turn my back on you. Never." She nodded, pressing a kiss to his palm. Then, she removed the first letter from the stack, opened the envelope, removed the letter, and began to read.

_"'Tim,_

_I... I do not know how to say this, or even where to begin, but... that one night resulted in a small human being beginning to grow within me. I started to get sick a week after you left, and... two pregnancy tests later and... every time I try to write these three simple words, my mind shuts down and I cannot make my hand move. I have tried, so hard in the last two weeks, to write to you and tell you this, but something holds me back. I never thought it would be so hard to put these three small words to paper, but it is. _

_I am pregnant. _

_It is yours, Tim. _

_I... I am so sorry._

_- Ziva'"_

When she looked up, he was brushing the tears off her cheeks. "Oh, Ziva. I'm so sorry you had to go through that alone. I'm so sorry." She wrapped her arms around his neck, letting the tears slip silently down her cheeks. When she finally pulled away, she found herself staring into his own tear-filled eyes. Her eyes darted quickly to his lips before returning to his gaze, and then slowly, she closed the gap between them.


	28. Chapter 28

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

**Thanks to Sazzita for reviewing 22, 24, 26 and 27; mcgeeksgirl and gypsymooneysgirl7733 for reviewing 27; Reader for reviewing 22, 23, 24, 25, 26 and 27. **

Oh-four-hundred.

Sighing, he slipped out of bed and headed into the kitchen, after glancing back towards the bed.

She was by far the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen.

As she had started to go to the guest bedroom, he'd grabbed her hand, tugging her gently towards his room. Nothing had happened; they had settled down, talking softly until sleep took them both. But this was new, for both of them, despite the fact that they had a child. Eight years had passed, and they were in uncharted, unfamiliar territory. Despite moving in together, they were going to take things slow, until they were certain rekindling that flame that had been forcefully extinguished was what was right. They had to focus on Asher first, he was their son. He was their first priority.

After fixing a cup of tea, he took a seat on the sofa, turning on the table lamp and picking up another letter. These were Ziva's thoughts, the wild questions that had been running around her head eight years ago, when she was pregnant. These were the very things she was facing and dealing with as their baby grew inside her. He picked up another letter; he'd read through most of them by the time he got to the one that was obviously the turning point in her young life.

_"'Tim, _

_I can no longer hide it. They know. _

_They all know that your child is growing inside me. Tali discovered it, and rushed to Ima. I am only five months along, and my belly is small, but noticeable. I am no longer a member of my own family, and I have been moved to the house I was born in. Ima, Ari and Tali will look after me when I can, although, I fear that I shall be alone for most of my pregnancy._

_How I wish you were with me._

_-Ziva'"_

The letter was short, but spoke volumes as to Eli David's treatment of his daughter. He sighed, mentally kicking himself for not being there when she needed him most. But there was nothing he could have done; his own father had made sure that he was on the next flight back to the States as soon as he found out. After trying to beat him to death, of course. Sipping his tea, he picked up another letter, and began to read.

_"'Tim,_

_I am only a week away from giving birth, and I have never been so terrified in my entire life. I need you here by my side to welcome our son into the world when he comes, but I know that is not possible. All I can do is dream, and keep you in my heart._

_I am sure you would not recognize me, were we to meet again. I do not recognize myself when I look in the mirror. My belly is big and round, so big that my fingers do not touch when I place them beneath my belly. Our son does not move as much anymore, for which I am grateful. But it is awfully uncomfortable, and I spend most of my time reading or dreaming of you. On the rare occasions that I do stand before the mirror, I am surprised by the changes I have gone through- I can no longer see my feet, and Tali says that I waddle like a duck going to the pond when I walk. My navel pokes out and there are stretch marks that run from below my belly upward. Ima has told me that most women wear them like a badge of honor, but that I cannot understand. It is not only my belly that has changed. My breasts have grown as well, and have begun to leak. According to what I have read and what Ima has told me, my body is preparing for when our baby will breastfeed. I do not know whether to be relieved or terrified._

_I want him to come, because I want to hold him, and to stare into his beautiful little face and count his ten perfect fingers and ten perfect toes. I want this to be over with, so that I know this was not all for nothing. I want to know that you gave me this little boy for a reason, but right now... right now, I do not know._

_All I know is that I want you here; I want us to be a family. Forever._

_-Ziva'"_

He set the letter down and picked up the stack of photographs. As he looked through each, he felt tears begin to well into his eyes. Various images, depicting her in various stages of her pregnancy, some with her mother, some with her sister, but all giving him an insight into the woman sound asleep in his bed. He stopped on one- an image of her standing at the window, hands caressing her belly, lost in thought. She appeared to be only about halfway through her pregnancy, but the image was no less beautiful, no less stunning. It spoke volumes to the simple loneliness she'd faced those nine months as their son was growing inside her, how she had turned to her daydreams and fantasies of their reunion.

Tim looked up when Ziva entered the living room, a cup of tea in her hands. "What are you-" She stopped, gaze landing on the photograph he was studying. It was one she recognized instantly- it was Asher, just after birth and held against her chest; a tender, beautiful first image of mother and child. He reached out, squeezing her hand before picking up another letter and unfolding it. It was short, only seven words that brought tears to his eyes.

_"'Tim,_

_He is here. And he is perfect._

_- Ziva'"_


	29. Chapter 29

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

The paint cans rested on every available space in the room; spilled, antique dusted emerald paint was spread out over the black tarp laid down, and the laughter that filled the room as they painted made the early morning start worth it. As soon as Asher had woken up, Tim had suggested going to the store and picking out paint colors- but the boy stopped his father, telling him he knew exactly what color he wanted his room. Ziva had just shrugged.

"His favorite color is green."

And now, they were working on the walls in Asher's room, enjoying the family time together, as music played on the stereo Tim had set up, because Asher was insistent that they couldn't work without music. None of them noticed the knocking on the apartment door or the footsteps entering the small home. The only reason they knew anyone was here, was because Tim came into the kitchen to get something to drink only to find Gibbs standing in the living room. "Boss, what... how did you... what are you doing here?"

His boss held up a good-sized bag of takeout. "Ran into Fornell; said he saw you moving into the apartment and figured you might need some help. Tony's got a few of the guys from cybercrimes and also Cassidy's team helping." He glanced around. "Nice place. Sure it's big enough?" Tim took a sip of his water.

"For Ziva, Asher and I, of course." He bit his lip. "And... thank you, but you didn't need to-" Gibbs waved it away.

"No problem. You're one of my boys, Tim. And Ziva and Asher are yours, so they're mine too." It was then that Agent Paula Cassidy entered, carrying a box of kitchen supplies.

"Where did you guys-" Tim asked, watching as she set the box on the counter.

"We may have stopped and picked up a few things for you, McGee." She replied with a wink. Tim just stared at her, unsure of how to respond, before he gave her a nervous smile.

"_Abba_! _Ima_ said that when we finish, we can go get Chi-" Everyone looked up as Asher rushed into the kitchen, a streak of green paint on his cheek. Gibbs was just as surprised as everyone else to hear Asher call Tim _Abba_, especially considering how shy and nervous he'd been when they first met. But obviously, both were getting used to each other, and had spent that last few days bonding as much as possible. Instantly, Asher's green eyes widened in surprise, and he looked around at all the people bringing things into the apartment, before quickly darting behind his father. "_Abba_, who are they?" Tim glanced down at his son, taking a deep breath before kneeling to his level, finally finding his voice.

"These, are my coworkers. They've come to help us move in." The boy nodded slowly, still not fully understanding, but trusting his father's words. "You've met Agent Gibbs and Agent DiNozzo and Ms. Scuito and Dr. Mallard and Mr. Palmer and Director Shepard." The boy nodded, and then whispered something to Tim, which made him smile. "Yes, the nice lady with the pretty red hair." After a moment, Tim stood, scooping the small boy into his arms and settling him on his hip as Gibbs disappeared and returned minutes later.

Even though Asher was eight, he was small for his age, weighing only about forty-three pounds- thanks in a big way to Ziva's genes; Tim had at first been worried that their son was sick, but Ziva let him know that the doctors had told her it was normal for a child of his height and build to be on the small side of the weight spectrum. The boy curled into his father's side, watching the strangers enter and exit the apartment, leaving boxes of various sizes and shapes in their wake. Tim glanced down at his son, and then, unsure of what possessed him, he pressed a kiss to Asher's temple, just as Ziva entered from the back of the apartment, brushing her bangs off her face.

"I sent Asher out here to get you, and then I find that he-" She stopped, surprised to find Gibbs and the others coming in and out. "Agent Gibbs, what... what are you all..." The silver-haired agent set down two trays of coffee in front of the family, removing two and handing one to his agent and one to the Mossad officer.

"They're here to help us, Ziva." Tim whispered, glancing at her. Her eyes widened in shock.

"Help... help us... help us_ move_?" He nodded. "But..." She turned back to Gibbs. "But why?" The team leader shrugged.

"Because Tim is a part of our family, and you and Asher are Tim's family. And there's nothing we won't do for family." After a moment, Ziva accepted the coffee, taking a sip. She gave Gibbs a small smile.

_"Toda."_ He nodded, as Paula Cassidy returned with Abby and Tony in tow, carrying boxes that were meant for the bedroom. Tim and Ziva had finished painting the master bedroom earlier in the day- a nice, beautiful Mint Green, that was more blues in hue than green, depending on the light in the room. It was a beautiful, calming color, that would help whisk the stress of the day away. And they had also found a nice bedroom set of deep, mahogany wood, that they'd bought the day before and had delivered earlier in the day. As for Asher's room, his furniture was made of nice, sturdy oak, a simple twin bed with dark green sheets and pillows.

"So, what do you have done so far?" Gibbs asked, as the couple shared a glance, unsure of what to say.

* * *

><p>There were still lots of things to be put away, but the bigger pieces of furniture- the beds, bookcases, tables, and various other things needed for living in an apartment- were all assembled and set up, but Tim and Ziva could get it all settled to their liking the next day. Gibbs even gave Tim Monday and Tuesday off, allowing him time to help Ziva get their son settled and adjusted to this new life. Once done, dinner eaten and all big boxes and bags removed, the others left the small family, leaving behind wishes for sweet dreams and congratulations in their new home. As Tim finally shut the door behind him, he turned, to see Ziva sitting on the sofa, Asher curled up beside her with his head in her lap. She was gently stroking the boy's dark curls, humming a soft lullaby to him. Silently, he went to the sofa, leaning over it. "He's out cold, huh?"<p>

She turned to him confused. "What?"

"Sound asleep." He clarified. "It's an expression." She nodded, glancing down at their son. When she looked up next, it was to him standing over her, arms out. "Here, give him to me." Gently, she sat the boy up and whispered something into his ear, guiding him towards his father. Once Tim had scooped his son up, Asher wrapped his small arms around his neck and nuzzled his head into his _Abba_'s shoulder. Ziva followed behind, a small smile on her face as she watched Tim undress the boy and help him into his pajamas before tucking him into bed. Then, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to their son's head. He grabbed her hand on the way out, squeezing gently, giving her time to tell Asher goodnight.

"_Laila Tov_, my angel. Get some sleep. We have a long day tomorrow." Gently, she brushed his hair away from his face before pressing a kiss to his forehead.

_"Ima?"_

"Hmm?"

"Are we a family now?" She swallowed, unsure of how to respond.


	30. Chapter 30

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

She closed the door softly behind her, and then glanced around. Just because she'd ended up in Tim's bed the night before, didn't mean she would end up in his bed again tonight. As she turned to go back into the living room, the door to the master bedroom opened, and Tim stepped out. He grabbed her wrist, nodding for her to follow. Once the door closed behind them, he let go of her. "We share a son, so we might as well share the same room, right?" He asked, as he removed his shirt. He'd already changed into his pajama pants, but had yet to remove his button-down. But Ziva wasn't paying attention to a word that came out of his mouth. She was too focused on his back.

Scars of every size and shape covered his back, from the slope of his shoulders down to his waist. Some were faded, others were still bright as the day they'd been added, some were surrounded by puckered skin, others were raised and slightly puffy. Something in her head screamed that these were from the night his father had found out about them, that these were the result of that beating, or from the shards of the mirror her own father had shoved him into when they were caught. But either way, however he attained these, all it did was prove how evil the men they had both called 'father' were. It took some time for her eyes to see past the scar tissue on his back, but once they did, the sight her dark gaze rested on took her breath away.

Residing on his back, between and over his shoulder blades and going halfway down towards his lower back, was a tattoo. A beautiful tattoo, in hues of blue, silver and red; as she stepped closer, she saw that it was an intricate Celtic knot in a circle. At first, she missed it, but then she saw the tattoo within the Celtic knot- and it caused her heart to stall briefly in her chest.

A golden Star of David.

Woven into the Celtic knot, was her Jewish Star of David, almost the same size as the knot, each of the six prongs interwoven into the main knot, and then moved down to create the traditional six-pointed star of Ziva's faith. She didn't have to ask the meaning behind the art on his back; it was plain and clear. The interweaving of the two symbols was a representation of their reunion, and the steps they had decided to take, to become the family both so desperately desired- for themselves and their son.

She stepped closer, realizing that the silver rim inside the knot looked new, as did the star itself. Slowly, she lifted her hand, reaching up to trace the design-

"Ziva? You okay?" She soon found herself staring into Tim's eyes. Eventually, she nodded.

"Yes, I... I am okay. I just..." She gestured behind her and blushed. He furrowed his brow for a moment, before realizing.

"Oh. You saw that." She nodded.

"When... when did you get it done?" He sighed, and glanced down at his hands.

"I had the Celtic knot done in college- two years after graduating from MIT, and the summer before I started at John Hopkins. By then, my back had healed enough, that the doctor gave me the okay. Instead of having it closed, I left it open, and didn't have the inside ring added, but back then, I had no idea why. Something just..." He shrugged. "Something just told me to leave it." She couldn't help the smile that came to her face, but then furrowed her brow.

"Tim, the... the appointment you said you had yesterday..." He nodded.

"It was for this. I had a doctor's appointment; he wanted to make sure that the scars on my back hadn't opened up and weren't becoming infected and also make sure my spine was fine- routine checks I have to go through now thanks to that bastard-" He said, a flash of anger at his father moving swiftly through his green eyes. "and once he was satisfied, he gave me the all clear, and I had the Star and the inside ring added." He sighed. "I guess, this is why I left it open, though at the time I didn't know it." He pulled his shirt on and quickly buttoned it, before reaching up and cradling her face in his hand. "I had it done for you, and for Asher." He gently pulled her closer, laying his other hand on her waist. "For us." She smiled softly at him, searching his green eyes.

"It is beautiful." He returned the soft smile, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

She closed her eyes, drinking it in, reaching up to grasp his shirt, when he reluctantly pulled away, resting his forehead to hers. "I'm sorry, Ziva. I... this is just so..."

"New?" She volunteered, and he nodded, moving his other hand to her waist. He held her close, nudging her nose with his.

"We need to take things slow. I mean we... we rushed it last time, and look where it got us."

"It resulted in Asher." She replied. He nodded again brushing him lips gently against hers again. "I understand. I want to take it slow also. For our son." He gave her a soft smile and pressed another light kiss to her lips before pulling away, but she grabbed his wrist. "Tim?" He turned back to her. "_Toda_. For throwing your life away for us." Tears glistened in her eyes, and he gently brushed them away.

"I haven't thrown anything away. If anything, I've gained... _everything_. And I have you to thank, Ziva. You gave me our son."

She shook her head, slowly wrapping her arms around his waist. "No, Tim." She sniffled. "You gave him to me. And by giving him to me, you saved me."


	31. Chapter 31

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

_"You gave him to me. And by giving him to me, you saved me."_

Her own words rang in loud in her head, and after a moment, she pushed herself up, to check the clock on her cell.

Barely oh-one-hundred.

She glanced over her shoulder; Tim was sound asleep, his breathing even, and she watched him for several minutes, realizing how beautiful he truly was, and reveling in the fact that her son had inherited that beauty. A moment passed, before she reached out and gently caressed his cheek, before leaning over and pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I will be right back."

Silently, she slipped out of bed and moved to the door. Once out in the hall, she headed to their son's room. It was still strange for them both to be sharing the same room, but she was grateful; they needed the time to get to know each other. A lot had changed in the eight years since their separation, and they were both different people now.

As she slipped into her son's bedroom, she found him fast asleep. Sighing, she went to the bed and perched lightly on the edge before reaching out to brush his hair out of his eyes. This little boy had been her saving grace, for eight years. He'd given her a reason to complete the missions she was assigned, to come home, to remember to survive. He had been the reason she had stopped once she'd gotten the revenge she so deeply desired.

_This was not happening. When had she turned as bad as the people who had taken her mother and sister from the world? Yes, she was an assassin, she had been trained to kill, but only those that deserved it. That was the reasoning behind Mossad: remove those from the world that take innocent lives on a mass scale. But now... _

_The back door slammed shut behind her, and she sank to the floor, forcing herself to take deep breaths. Seeing that car blow up, hearing that little girl's trapped screams-_

_"Ima?" _

_She looked up._ _A moment passed, where she didn't recognize who stood in front of her, but then he reached out for her, and she remembered. Without a word, she pulled the five-year-old into her lap, burying her face in his dark hair. "I love you, my angel. I love you so, so much." She pressed firm, hard kisses to his head, repeating it over and over again, the tears rolling down her cheeks. _

_"Ima, why are you crying?" His innocent green eyes stared up at her, and she felt herself start to cry harder. Those beautiful green eyes..._

_None of this would have happened if he had come back for her. If she had had the courage to tell him about his son._

_"No reason, my angel. I just missed you." She lied, relishing the smile that lit up his face. If she could keep him from the danger and destruction, if she could stop his world from becoming tainted, from becoming drenched in danger and death, like hers had been, then maybe, just maybe..._

_"I made this for Abba. Would he like it?" She took the drawing he handed her, and fresh tears began to gather in her eyes. Three stick figures, holding hands next to a house, with a smiling sun shining down on them; she choked on a sob. He needed this. Her son needed a stable home; one not tainted at the edges with violence and pain, but one surrounded and protected by love and happiness. He needed his mother and his father, together. Loving him and loving each other. He needed a home, a real home, with his father there, to love him. She needed him too. _

_But she didn't know if she would ever get the chance to give her son what he so desperately needed. She had no way of contacting his father, or even finding him. Nor, did she think, that she would ever get the chance. If ever. But she couldn't tell her son that. So she plastered on the smile and laid the picture by her side. _

_"He would love it, my angel. I know he would." _

_"Do you?" She nodded, taking his chin in her hand. _

_"Ken. I love it very much. Just like I love you." He wrapped his small arms around her neck, and she held him close, breathing in his scent. Her gaze shifted to the drawing, and she took a deep breath. This little boy was her first priority. He needed her. And she needed him. She pressed another firm kiss to his head. "I love you, my angel. I love you."_

He shifted under her fingers. _"Ima?"_ She gave him a small smile.

"Go back to sleep, my angel. It is still dark out." He slowly opened his eyes, those beautiful green orbs coated thinly in sleep. He yawned, and Ziva chuckled softly.

_"... Abba?"_

"Still in bed, _asleep_. Just like you should be." He shook his head, even as his eyes began to close.

"Do not... want... to..."

"I know you do not want to sleep, but you need it. We all do. Now, close your eyes, and go with the angels to dreamland." She gently caressed his cheek, and once satisfied that he was sound asleep, she leaned over, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I love you." Then, she stood and slipped silently out of the room.

Instead of returning to bed, she wandered into the living room, finding the box she had returned Asher's memory chest to, and gently lifted it out. Taking a seat on the floor, she lifted the lid, and slowly shifted through the contents, pulling out the letters she had written but never sent. Pulling out one of the letters, she opened it and sat back to read through the words she'd written at seventeen.


	32. Chapter 32

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

**Thanks to mcgeeksgirl for reviewing 31; Sazzita for reviewing 28, 29, 30 and 31; skyjadeprincess for reviewing 28; Reader for reviewing 28, 29, 30 and 31.**

She hadn't even been aware that the photos were being taken, but there they were, in her hands. Turning one of them over, she couldn't help the small smile at Ari's slantedly neat scroll or Tali's childish printing. As she continued looking through the photos, one caused her to stop. She stared at it for several minutes, before turning it over and seeing her sister's writing. She hadn't even been aware that Tali had grabbed the camera. But then again, she'd been so focused on giving birth, that she hadn't noticed much of anything except the pain that day.

_She struggled to take a breath; the burning was so painful it took her breath away, and she squeezed Rivka's hand, in a feeble attempt to help deal with the pain. Another scream escaped her, and she lay her head back, squeezing her eyes shut. "Ima!"_

_"I know it burns, Zivaleh. I know. But you must breathe through it-" Her daughter's scream cut her off, and she glanced at Ari. _

_"Ari, anything?" He sighed, shrugging._

_"The baby is crowning, that is all I can tell you. The very top of his head is out, and he is continuing to come. It takes time. If she keeps fighting like this, she will tear, and it will take longer for her to heal." His sister let out another scream, and she buried her face in Rivka's shoulder. "She needs to calm. Do you hear me, Zivaleh? If you don't calm, you are only making the birth harder on you and your son."_

_Her eyes snapped open, and she glared at him. "You try to push another human being out of your body, and then tell me to calm."_

_"Ziva." Rivka grabbed her chin, forcing the laboring young woman to meet her gaze. She whispered something to her, and Ziva nodded, whimpering in response. She didn't hear the click of the camera._

She rolled her eyes. Only Tali would think to take a photograph while her nephew was crowning. But then again, now that she thought back on it, Ziva was kind of grateful she had. She flipped to another photograph, but the sound of shuffling feet caused her to turn. "Ziva? It's barely five past oh-one-hundred. What are you doing out here?" She sighed and put the photos and letters back into the chest before closing it and standing. Lifting it, she turned to him.

"I could not sleep, and I did not want to wake you." He shook his head, turning around and heading back to the bedroom as she followed.

* * *

><p>He watched her slip the chest into the back of the small walk-in closet; she would find a more fitting place to put it in the morning. Once done, she climbed back under the covers, turning to face him. Propping herself onto her elbow, she found herself studying the man beside her. She saw several of his features in their son, most notably those beautiful green eyes- that were currently filled with worry. "Is there something wrong? That why you can't sleep?" She thought a moment, before shaking her head slowly.<p>

"No. I just... I cannot sleep." He nodded, reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair off her face. Her eye caught something under his sleeve, and she grabbed his hand, stopping him from pulling away. Gently, she pushed the sleeve of his shirt back, turning his arm up, revealing another tattoo. Her gaze shot from the tattoo to his face and back, before she asked, "Tim, what is this?"

He sighed. "It's the Celtic symbol for fatherhood." She waited, giving him the time to gather his thoughts and continue. "I got it done the same day I finished the one on my back." He quickly licked his lips, glancing at her face. "I got it for Asher." Her head snapped up, dark eyes in shock.

"You did?"

"He's my son." He shrugged. "I asked them to add his name and the meaning to it as well."

She turned her gaze back to the tattoo, now searching for her son's name among the intricate Celtic detailing. The knot itself was a beautiful, dark emerald green, one continuous strand of dark green, unlike the knot on his back, and the cross created in the center by the intricate knot itself was a filled-in beautiful deep blue. Green for the famous Irish luck she remembered Tim telling her about all those years ago, when they wandered through a bookstore in downtown Tel Aviv, and she found a book on Ireland. And blue, to symbolize the holiness of her faith, and the faith their son had been raised around, those first eight years of his life.

After several minutes, she found what she was looking for- at one point in the knot, her son's name took the place of the knot work, only separated by the curve of another loop, but still, plain as day in beautiful script: _Asher Malachi_. Slowly, she let her gaze follow the rest of the work, until she found the meaning, in the same beautiful script as his name: _my blessed angel_. She tilted her head, continuing to follow the knot, and found his birth date in the same script. Tears came to her eyes as she looked up at him.

"_Toda_, Tim." She sniffled, quickly brushing the tears away. "It is beautiful." He reached up, cradling her face in his hand.

"He's my son, and he'll always be with me, no matter where life takes us." She pressed a kiss to his palm, before moving down and kissing the tattoo on the inside of his wrist.

"You did this for him?" He shook his head.

"I did it for both of you."


	33. Chapter 33

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

Her eyes slowly opened, to find the tattoo on his back flexing with the movement of his shoulders. Silently, she stretched and pushed herself up, bracing herself on her elbow. "You are beautiful, you know that?" He turned to her as he began pulling on the pale blue button-down. A grin tugged at his lips, and he knelt on the bed.

"Look who's talking." He replied, leaning down and capturing her lips in a soft kiss. "_You_ are beautiful." He whispered between kisses. She chuckled softly, stealing another kiss, and another and another, one hand moving to brush over the knot on his wrist before moving up and brushing over his chest. He had been thin when they met eight years ago- at first, she had thought he was sick instead of just thin, but then she began to realize that it was just his body type- and since she'd been in America, she noticed that he'd begun to thin out more. He laid a hand on her hip, tugging her closer, deepening the kiss, before his chivalry won out.

That, and the little boy hiding outside the bedroom door.

"Ziva, as... as much as I want to..." She nodded, just as reluctant to stop the passion building in her veins.

"Take it slow." She finished; he nodded. Gently, she reached up, taking his face in her hand. She stared into his eyes for several moments, before whispering, "Beautiful." He gave her a soft smile, meeting her lips again in a soft kiss, just as the bedroom door opened and Asher poked his head in.

"_Abba? Ima_?" Tim pulled away, turning to find the boy standing in the doorway, shuffling his feet nervously. He grinned.

"Hey, you're up early." He replied, holding out a hand. The boy rushed to him, taking his father's hand. Slowly, he pushed the sleeve up, revealing the tattoo on his wrists.

"What is this?" Tim met Asher's green eyes before glancing at Ziva, who crawled to the edge of the bed and perched on it. Then, she pulled the boy into her arms and onto her lap, wrapping her arms around him as laid his head on her shoulder. "_Ima_, what is that?" She glanced at the tattoo, unable to hide the smile as she turned back to her son.

"It is a tattoo." Asher pulled away to look at her, surprised.

"But... but we are not allowed to have-"

"Well, things are different here in America, my angel. And _Abba_ is not Jewish, so it does not affect his religion."

"Oh. But why?" The child turned his green eyes to his father, and Tim took a seat beside them.

"Because I wanted to." He whispered, pulling the sleeve of his shirt up farther and holding his wrist up. The child leaned close, green eyes wide as he drank in the knot, but when he found his name and the meaning, as well as his birthdate, he looked up at Tim, a bright smile on his face.

"For me?" The innocent awe in his son's voice made Tim's heart clench, and he nodded. Instantly, the boy turned to Ziva. "Abba made it for me!" Ziva glanced at Tim, tears in her eyes, before turning back to their son.

"I know, my angel. He had it done because he loves you. Just like he loves me." She whispered, brushing the boy's hair back from his face and pressing a kiss to his temple.

"He got one for you too?" Asher asked, looking at his mother. "Where is it?" Ziva glanced at Tim, who sighed and removed his shirt. He turned, allowing Asher to see the knot and star entwined on his back. The boy's mouth dropped, and slowly, he reached out, but Ziva grabbed his hand.

"It's okay, Ziva. He can touch." After a moment, she let her son's hand go, and the boy brushed his small fingers over his father's tattoo. His green eyes moved over the tattoo, searching for something, before he turned to his mother.

"Where is your name, _Ima_?" Ziva chuckled.

"The star is for me." She whispered, causing Asher to glance at the star and turn back, reaching out to trace it on his father's skin.

"Does it come off?" Tim glanced over his shoulder at his son, and shook his head.

"No. It's permanent." Asher nodded.

"Do you have others?" He asked, amazement brought on by the simple Celtic knot on his father's wrist sparking a curiosity Ziva didn't dare extinguish. Tim chuckled softly and glanced at Ziva. He shook his head, shifting to look at his son.

"No, just these."

"Will you get more?" Tim shrugged.

"Maybe." Asher's face fell. Gently, he reached over, lifting his son's face to his gaze. "Someday." That lit the boy's eyes.

"Can I come?" He glanced to Ziva, who chuckled and nodded.

"If _Abba_ has ever gets another one, you may go."

* * *

><p>They spent the next several hours unpacking and putting things away. Both Tim and Ziva agreed to let Asher decorate his own room, and so left him to his own devices, only returning to check on him. As Tim worked on the kitchen, Ziva worked on the living room, and so was the first one to answer the door when she heard the knock.<p>

"Agent Gibbs. What are you-" Tim joined her, in time to pull her back as his boss entered, carrying something. He set the object down and turned to his youngest agent.

"Where's Asher, Tim?" The young father bit his lip, before glancing over his shoulder. After a moment, he excused himself, going back to the bedroom. He returned minutes later, Asher settled on his hip, whispering softly to the boy. When he set the child down, the boy slowly went to the object and slowly removed the blanket it was covered with. Sitting in front of him, was a beautiful chair, crafted of gorgeous, varnished oak. Asher looked up, but Gibbs had disappeared and was returning with something else. He slowly removed the blanket and stepped back, watching as the boy's eyes widened. Quickly, he turned to his parents.

"_Abba, Ima_! It is a desk! He made me a desk!" Ziva turned wide dark eyes to Gibbs. He chuckled.

"Every boy needs a desk, Ziva." She turned her gaze to Tim, who just shrugged and held out his hand.

"Thank you, Gibbs." The two men shook hands, and Tim turned to his son, who was pulling out drawers and examining everything. "Asher, what do you say?" The boy shut the drawer he'd pulled out and looked up at the older man.

"_Toda."_ Gibbs chuckled.

"You're welcome."


	34. Chapter 34

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

"So, did you finally make a decision?" Asher looked up at Tim, confused.

"On what?" Tim chuckled softly, leaning down and wrapping his son in his arms as he ruffled the dark hair.

"About dinner, silly. Remember? We told _Ima_ we'd be back with dinner in an hour or so. She said she didn't care what we got, just as long as we got something?" The boy laughed as Tim tickled him, struggling to get away.

"_Abba_, stop! No more tickles!"

"Did you say more? All right." The little boy let out a shriek of laughter, before Tim pressed a firm kiss to his son's head. "So, what did we decide?" He asked, leaning down to hear his son's reply. The boy whispered softly in his ear, and he turned to him. "I didn't hear that. What was it?"

"Pizza!" Tim chuckled, pressing another kiss to his son's head before taking his hand and leading him into the small pizza parlor. As soon as they made it up to the counter, Asher rose on his toes, leaning against the counter. "Ima said we could order pizza!" Tim chuckled at the young man's confused look.

"His mother." He clarified. "Now," he leaned down, meeting his son's eyes. "What kind do you want?" The boy thought a moment. "We already agreed on pepperoni-" the child turned to him, eyes wide.

"Cheese-less with pickles, Ta-bas-co sauce and peanut butter!" He cried, turning to the cashier. Tim groaned, rolling his eyes as he stood.

"Okay, I am going to have to have a serious talk with Sarah about exposing you to her eating habits." He muttered. "Just a couple pepperoni pizzas, please."

* * *

><p>They sat on the floor, a pizza box between them, taking a break from unpacking. Ziva had pulled her hair back into a messy ponytail, and was watching in disgust as her son added peanut butter to his pizza after removing the pepperoni and cheese. She glanced at Tim. "You <em>are<em> going to talk to your sister, _ken_?" He nodded, disgust flashing through his eyes.

"Oh, yeah." She gave him a small smile, leaning up to meet his lips in a soft kiss.

"_Toda_." He mouth softly against her lips, and stole another gentle kiss before pulling away at Asher's giggles.

"Eew." Tim chuckled, rolling his eyes as he took a bite of his own slice. They ate in silence for several minutes, before Asher asked, "_Abba_, why do you kiss_ Ima_?" The pair shared a glance, before Tim swallowed and bit his lip.

"Because I want to." Asher's brow furrowed.

"Why?" The serious look on his son's face forced him to consider his answer for a few minutes. He sighed and glanced as Ziva, taking her hand. A moment passed, before he met Ziva's gaze and whispered softly,

"Because I love her." Her eyes widened in shock, and her mouth dropped as she struggled to form words. He turned his gaze to Asher, a soft grin tugging at his lips. "I love your _Ima_, and I always have. I guess... from the moment I met her, I was in love with her. And... kissing her is a way to... show her that I love her." The boy nodded, slowly understanding.

"Oh. Do you love me?" Tim chuckled.

"Yes, I love you very, very much." He leaned forward, taking his son's chin in his hand and pressing a kiss to his forehead. The boy giggled.

"_Abba_!" Ziva couldn't help laughing, Tim's words running circles in her head.

* * *

><p>The boy tugged the sleeve of Tim's shirt up, tracing the knot on his father's wrist. Ziva watched from her place in the doorway, listening to the soft conversation between her boys. She sighed; never, in her wildest dreams, did she ever truly think that she would be standing here, in her own home, with the father of her son. That she would be in America...<p>

"_Ima_?" She was interrupted when Asher looked over at her. Pushing herself away from the wall, she perched next to Tim the edge of the bed. Gently, she reached up, brushing her fingers through his hair.

"What is it, my angel?" She whispered, searching his face.

"_Abba_ will not leave us, will he?" She stalled in her brushing, and glancing at Tim, who laid a hand on her back. A moment passed before she turned back to Asher.

"No, my angel. _Abba_ is staying right here, with us. And we are staying with him. What did Abba tell you when you asked?" The boy swallowed, glancing at his father.

"Said he would stay." Tim chuckled, and pressed a kiss to her head.

"And I am sure he meant it. _Abba_ keeps his promises." She leaned over, meeting his eyes. "Now, go to sleep, my angel."

* * *

><p>Something gnawed at her as she slipped into bed beside Tim. "You meant it, <em>ken<em>? You will not leave us?" Tim's green eyes turned to her, surprised.

"Why would I, Ziva? Where did you ever get an idea like that?" She shrugged.

"Asher asked..." He took her hand, squeezing her hand.

"And I told him the same thing I'm telling you. I wouldn't dream of leaving you, not when I've finally found you again. Ziva, I'm staying right here. Okay?" She nodded, wrapping her arms around him.

"I lost you once, and I could not bear it, Tm." She sniffled, nuzzling into his neck. He held her closer pressing a kiss to her hair. "I feel as though this is a dream-"

"It's not dream, Ziva. We're a family, we're together again, and nothing and_ no one_ is going to tear us apart. I promise." He whispered, pulling away to look into her eyes. She nodded; it was finally sinking in that this was real, that she had found him, that they were a family, and that they had a home together.

"I just... I spent so many hours, so many years, dreaming, and... and I am afraid I will wake up and... and you will vanish..." He shook his head.

"No. It's real. I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere."


	35. Chapter 35

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

She slipped back into bed after checking on Asher- a habit from living in Israel the last eight years and her maternal paranoia- to find Tim sound asleep, his back to her. At some point, he'd removed his shirt, and she could see the tattoo on his back in the moonlight. It really was a beautiful piece of artwork, that hid such horrible scars. How he had survived a beating as severe as that, she didn't know, but she was grateful he had. Ziva didn't know if she'd have been able to live had she come to America to find him, only to find out he'd died eight years earlier from his father's hand. How had a man as horrible as Ambassador McGee manage to have a son as loving and gentle as Tim?

It made no sense.

A moment passed, before she got up, slipping out of bed and pulling Asher's memory chest out of the closet. Then, she slipped out of the room and made her way to the living room. Once settled on the sofa, she opened the chest and sifted through it, finally finding what she wanted. It was a photograph, taken from that long ago day eight years earlier, when Asher had finally come into her life. Tears began to fill her eyes as she stared at the people in the photograph.

_"He is so... tiny. How can something so tiny make you so... big, Zivaleh?" She chuckled gently, shaking her head. _

_"I do not know, Tali. And I do not care. All I care about is that he is here," She sniffled, tears glistening in her eyes. "And he is beautiful."_

_The baby squirmed in her arms, his cries the sweetest music to his mother's ears. She had let Ari clean him up, before accepting him back in her arms, and gently, she ran her fingers through his dark curls, staring into his face. He looked up at her with blue eyes, and she couldn't help as the tears slowly drifted down her cheeks. As she moved her fingers over his small face, he turned towards her touch, and she sniffled. Tenderly, she took his tiny hand in hers, admiring how small his fingers were, how tiny his nails. He wrapped his hand around her index finger, and she choked on a sob._

_"What is wrong? Zivaleh? Are you in pain?" She shook her head at her sister's questions, never taking her eyes off her son._

_"No, Tali, I... I just cannot believe he is finally here... After all this time, all that pain, all those hours of pushing... and he is here. And he is absolutely perfect." She sniffled, before leaning down and brushing her lips gently against her son's forehead. "I love you, my son." _

_Tali watched quietly, noticing a change come over her sister. One she desperately wanted to experience for herself. She'd watched the last nine months, as Ziva had gone from the carefree, strong, rebellious girl she'd grown up around, to this quiet, cautious, almost fragile woman who'd replaced the sister she knew and loved. Not that she didn't love this new Ziva, it just scared her. Tali didn't take to change that well, in regards to her family, and this big a change was something she may never get used to. She watched as her sister gently brushed her thumb over her son's tiny hand, fresh tears moving down her cheeks as she smiled at the newborn she cradled in her arms. "Shalom, my son. I am your Ima. Ken, I am. And you are so beautiful."_

_"Ziva?"_

_But she ignored her little sister. "I love you." She sniffled. "And I know, that if your Abba were here, he would love you, too. He would love you so much. Just like I do."_

"_Zivaleh?" Slowly, her older sister pulled her gaze away from her son. "What is his name?" Ziva bit her lip, thinking for a moment. She had settled on a name, but wasn't sure it was the right one. But she knew, when she'd looked at him, that it was perfect for him. And yet... she was afraid she'd made the wrong choice in choosing his name. She needed his father there, to help her; wasn't that one of the things parents did together, after all? Choose their baby's name?_

_"Ziva, sweetheart, what did you name your son?" She turned to meet Rivka's dark gaze, and then glanced towards Ari, who also waited patiently to hear the name of his newborn nephew. "You can tell us. I am sure whatever you chose is beautiful." After a moment, Ziva turned her gaze back to the baby in her arms. He was so tiny, and he depended on her. He depended on her protect him, and love him, and raise him. All the things mothers did, because she was a mother now. In a soft, tear-filled voice, she whispered,_

_"He is my blessed angel." She bit her lip lightly. "Asher Malachi David." _

_"It is beautiful, Zivaleh." Rivka whispered, pressing a kiss to her daughter's head. But Tali was confused. _

_"How come you did not give him his Abba's name? You know it, right?" Ziva slowly turned to look at her sister. _

_"I cannot." She sniffled. "Were I to give him his father's last name... it would be too painful, because it would remind me of what Abba took from me. I cannot."_

_"Not now, sweetheart, but someday." She turned to Rivka, who stroked her hair back from her eyes. "Someday you will have the strength to give your son his father's name." She nodded slowly, taking a deep breath._

_"Um, Ziva?" She turned to her sister. "Can... can I hold him?" She studied her younger sister before nodding. Tali scooted closer to her, and gently, Ziva laid the baby in his aunt's arms. "You must support his head... in the corner of your elbow, and hold him close..." Once she made sure that her sister was correctly holding her son, she sat back, watching as Tali gushed over her nephew. "Ima taught me." She said, answering her sister's unasked question. The child nodded, smiling at the baby boy. "Shalom, Asher. I am your Doda, Tali. You are so tiny. I have never seen a person as tiny as you. You are so lucky, my older sister Ziva is your Ima. She is going to love you so much, and raise you and take care of you, because that is what Imas do." Ziva found herself chuckling softly at her sister's running conversation with her son. _

Silently, she flipped the photograph over. There, was Ari's neat scrawl. She flipped to another photograph- of Ari laid Asher into her arms, just after being born. He was still covered in blood and birth, but it didn't matter, even now, she could recognize the love in her eyes as she accepted her son. "How much did he weigh when he was born?" She jumped, turning to find Tim behind her, his arms around her shoulders. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." She glared at him, as he moved around the sofa and took a seat beside her. "So, how much did our son weigh at birth?"

She sighed softly, sifting through the photographs before handing one to him. It was a close up of Asher after he was born, against her chest. He studied it, feeling the guilt he felt at not being there start to gnaw at him again. She had gone through everything alone- from the pregnancy to the labor to the birth, to all the milestones a child went through- alone; all because his parents had sent him back to America after disowning him. All because they'd been ripped from each others' arms before either knew that their son existed. But while he couldn't make up for not being there then, he could try and make up for not being there now. He wasn't sure how, but he could try.

After a moment, Ziva chuckled, saying, "Six pounds, eight ounces." Tim chuckled, handing the photos back to her.

"He was beautiful. Still is." She gently replaced the photos in the chest and closed it, setting it on the table, before shifting closer and curling into his side. "Just like you." A soft chuckle escaped her lips, and she nuzzled against his shoulder. After a moment, she looked up at him, whispering,

"Like you." He gave her a soft smile, leaning down and pressing a kiss to her forehead.


	36. Chapter 36

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

**Thanks to skyjadeprincess for reviewing 35; Sazzita for reviewing 32, 33, and 35; None for reviewing 32; mcgeeksgirl for reviewing 33; Reader for reviewing 32, 33, 34 and 35.**

Small feet tiptoed towards the bedroom, the door was silently pushed open. The intended target was sound asleep; the other was nowhere to be seen. Good. It would be much easier to subdue one instead of both. After glancing around quickly, they moved to the edge of the bed and climbed on. After making sure they had their balance, they turned to their intended victim. Just the steady breathing sleep brought. Perfect. Getting ready, they bent their knees, prepared to jump, pushed off, flew towards their target, and-

_"Asher Malachi! Do not even think-"_

Too late.

Tim was jolted awake, not by his alarm or the ringing of his cell indicating a murder to be solved, but by a small, forty-three pound eight-year-old landing on him, followed at exactly the same time by Ziva's screech as she stepped out of the bathroom, drying her hair with a towel.

"I have you,_ Abba_! You are under arrest!" Asher cried, holding Tim's hands down at his wrists. It took several minutes for Tim to catch his breath, but when he did, he glanced at Ziva, who was tapping her foot in annoyance.

"For what?" He asked breathless.

"All right, this is getting ridiculous." Ziva cut in before Asher could answer. She moved around the bed, removing her son's hands from Tim's wrists. "Asher, look at me. Asher Malachi,_ look at me_." She grabbed his chin, forcing her son to meet her gaze. "_What_ have I told you about jumping on people?" Then, she lifted the little boy off his father, setting him back on his feet by the bed before going to the dresser.

"What exactly did I do?" Tim asked, as he sat up and grabbed his phone to check the time. Asher turned to Ziva.

"He broke a promise." He pouted. Ziva 'hmmed' softly as she got dressed.

"What promise did I break?" Tim asked confused, as Asher turned to him.

"You promised that I could go to work with you and_ Ima_ today. And you _broke_ it." He pouted, crossing his small arms over his chest. Tim sighed.

"Asher, it is oh-four-hundred; I don't go in until oh-six-hundred, oh-seven-hundred at the latest. Besides, Agent Gibbs gave me yesterday and today off to spend with you and_ Ima_." He replied, setting his phone down and reaching for his son, who refused to move until Ziva bumped him forward gently with her hip. The child stumbled slightly, before turning to his mother, who nodded.

"Oh. He did?" Tim nodded.

"Yeah, he did." Once he got close enough, Tim lifted him onto the bed and wrapped his arms around his son, brushing his dark curls off his forehead. "He said I could have Monday and today off, so that I could spend time with you and help you get adjusted to living in America." He brushed a soft kiss against his son's hair. "He told me to spend as much time as I possibly could with you, before you grow up and don't need me or _Ima_ anymore." Asher glanced at Tim, surprised.

"I will always need you, _Abba_!" He cried, leaning up to press a kiss to his father's cheek. Tim chuckled, meeting Ziva's eyes as she gazed at her boys.

"Now, why don't you let_ Abba_ get dressed, and you go get dressed, and we will go out and get breakfast, okay?" Ziva asked, kneeling in front of her son. The boy nodded, sliding off the bed and rushing to his room. Tim chuckled, watching him go, before turning back to Ziva, who crossed her arms over her chest. "Do not look so sheepish, Tim, you are doing wonderful." He sighed, reaching for her and tugging her onto his lap.

"Not as good as you, but I am learning." She chuckled, tracing his features.

"_Ken_. And you are learning very fast." She searched his gaze, before capturing his lips in a soft kiss. Soft laughter reached their ears, and they broke apart.

* * *

><p>"So, what do you want to do today?" Asher glanced between his parents, thinking. They sat at a small café table in downtown Georgetown, enjoying the warmth of the small café. His answer surprised them both.<p>

"Are_ Ima_ and I Americans?" Tim's eyes widened as he met Ziva's gaze.

"Wh... where would... where did that come from, Asher?" Tim asked, leaning towards his son. The boy glanced between his parents.

"The lady at the counter asked what my... hermitage was."

"Heritage." Tim gently corrected. "And why did she ask that?" The boy shrugged.

"She said she liked my eyes." Tim nodded, meeting Ziva's gaze.

"She is not the only one." Ziva whispered, grinning softly. Asher waited patiently for Tim to answer. The agent sighed, sitting back in his chair, thinking. After a moment, he glanced at his son.

"Yes, you are American, Asher. Because, I'm American. I'm an Irish-American. My mother's side of the family is from Boston, but my father's family is from Ireland. So, you have Irish and Jewish Israeli in your blood." The boy glanced at Ziva, confused.

"So are you American, _Ima_?" Ziva shook her head sadly.

"No, my angel, I am not. I am Israeli." She sighed. "I was born in Israel, like you were. Both sides of my family are Israeli Jew, which means you have Israeli blood in your veins. Jewish blood." The boy nodded, but they could tell he wasn't understanding.

"But... why am I American and _Ima_ is not?" He asked, turning to Tim, who sighed.

"You are American, because I am American."

"_Abba_ is an American, my angel, which means you are, by birth, an American citizen. Just as you are an Israeli citizen by birth, because I am an Israeli."

"But we are in America now,_ Ima_. Does that make you an American now too?" Ziva shook her head.

"No, it does not."

"Then," Asher turned to his father. "what happens if she is not a citizen?" Ziva glanced at Tim.

"If I do anything very, very bad, then I will be sent back to Israel, and you will stay here with _Abba_." She whispered. Asher's green eyes filled with frantic, frightened tears. He turned to Tim.

"They cannot send her away, _Abba_! _Do not let them, please! We have to make Ima American_!" His lower lip began to quiver. "How can_ Ima_ become an American?" Tim glanced at Ziva, before scooting his chair out and letting Asher climb into his lap. The boy buried his face in his father's shoulder, frightened tears sliding down his cheeks. He wrapped his arms around his son, glancing at Ziva.

"Shh. It's okay. _Ima_ isn't going anywhere, Asher, I promise. She's staying right here, with us. Okay? That's a promise. Hey, hey, look at me." The boy pulled away to stare into his father's eyes. Gently, Tim brushed a tear off his cheek. "_Ima_ is staying here. I won't let anything or anyone take her away from us."


	37. Chapter 37

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

**Thanks to Sazzita, Reader and silvermoon217 for reviewing 36.**

Tim had taken both Ziva and Asher to the National Mall, and they walked hand in hand the length of the mall, keeping a close eye on Asher as he rushed ahead. The boy was fascinated by the huge statue of Abraham Lincoln at his memorial and had hidden behind Tim as he told him about how the president had freed the slaves during the Civil War before being assassinated at Ford's Theater, looking up at the statue as if the gigantic man would come to life. They saw the Vietnam memorial, as well as Korea, and several of the Smithsonian museums. When they returned home, Tim and Ziva fixed lunch, leaving Asher to his own devices. When Tim poked his head in, Asher was curled up on the sofa, reading.

"He's quite the bookworm." Ziva nodded, pouring a glass of milk and setting it at the table.

"I used to read out loud when I was pregnant with him. It is said that hearing your voice calms the baby, and it was true. If he was... being particularly difficult, I would talk to him or read and..." She shrugged. "He would calm." Tim nodded, glancing back at their son. He was now stretched out on the sofa, the book in front of him, head in his hands; occasionally, the turning of a page could be heard, but other than that, complete silence from the living room.

Tim shook his head, chuckling. "I've always loved to read. I'd carry a book with me wherever I went-"

"I remember." Ziva interrupted, setting the napkins on the table. "You were reading the night we conceived Asher." He chuckled softly, mind going back to that night.

"_The Great Gatsby_, if I remember correctly." She shook her head, putting the milk away.

"_Gone With the Wind_." She replied, grabbing her mug and taking a sip of her tea. Tim turned to her, raising an eyebrow.

"How did you-"

"I was reading too, remember?" He nodded.

"I remember that part. _You_ interrupted me." She set her mug on the table, and reached out, wrapping an arm around his waist.

"And, if I remember, _you_ hopped at the chance to escape the dinner."

"Jumped." He corrected. She shrugged, reaching up and gently smacking his cheek.

"Same thing." A moment passed, as he thought about it, and then,

"Actually, no, they're not-" But Ziva was not longer paying attention. She moved away and headed into the living room.

"Asher, come on, put the book down, lunch is ready." He ignored her. Taking a deep breath, she moved to the sofa and gently ruffled his hair. He looked up.

"_Ima_!"

"Lunch." She nodded towards the kitchen. "Come on. You can read after you eat." He groaned, putting his bookmark in to hold his place before getting up. Once gone, Ziva picked up the book to place it on the table, when she stopped.

_The Diary of A Young Girl._

It had been years since she had read the diary of the teenaged German Jew, forced into hiding because of her race. She knew of the Holocaust, had lived, as a child, two doors down from a Holocaust survivor, and the stories he had told scared her and her siblings. The book had been no less heartbreaking than her neighbor's stories, and for a time, she wondered who would hate Jews so much that they would massacre millions. She had even asked Tim that question, one afternoon as they wandered through downtown Tel Aviv.

_"But why?" _

_He sighed, shaking his head in annoyance and returned to the back cover of the book he was holding. "I don't know, Ziva. Do I look like I have an insight into the German mindset?" She narrowed her eyes, shoving him lightly. _

_"You are supposed to." He turned to her, shock in his green eyes. _

_"And why is that?" She put her hands on her hips. _

_"Because you are American. And Americans know everything." His green eyes instantly softened, and he shook his head. _

_"Not all Americans are like what you see on TV, Ziva. Believe it or not, but some Americans do have heart." Then, he put the book down and continued on through the shelves._

She shook her head. Looking back, she realized how much of an annoyance she'd been to Tim; how haughty, how... mean.

But that was how she'd dealt with a crush; it was a natural reaction. She'd punched Shmuel Rubenstein after all, the boy who told her he liked her, when she was Asher's age, sending him out cold with a bloody nose thanks to one punch. She'd kicked Balthazar Mentzel when he tried to kiss her in the schoolyard when she was twelve, and sent him to the hospital for a testicle retrieval. She'd broken David Rosenthal's arm _and_ dislocated his entire shoulder when he asked her out at age fourteen. She'd nearly beaten Solomon Kramer to a bloody pulp when he suggested having sex in the back of his dad's car when she was sixteen. And then, a year later, at seventeen, she'd slept with Tim and gotten pregnant; and by eighteen, she was a single mother, with her son's father all but returned to America in a coffin.

But now, here she was eight years later, living _with_ the father of her child in Washington, D.C., working at NCIS. And she hadn't hit, broken, kicked or beaten Tim yet. That was progress.

Well, as far as she was concerned.

She took a seat on the sofa, opening the book to Asher's bookmark. Soon, her eyes began to skim the familiar words, and she found herself back in the Annex with Anne and her family.

"_'Peter Schiff and Peter van Daan have melted into one Peter, who's good and kind and whom I long for desperately.'"_ She chuckled; yes, she had felt the same way in concerns to Tim. For the last eight years, she'd had quite the fantasy in her head in regards to Tim. But now that she was with him, she found that her fantasies were not all that far off; the kind, loving, gentle boy that gave her their son had just grown up, becoming a kind, loving, accepting man who had taken her and their son into his life, chaos and all.

_"'I think, Kitty, that true love may be developing in the Annex. All those jokes about marrying Peter if we stayed here long enough weren't so silly after all. Not that I'm thinking of marrying him, mind you. I don't even know what he'll be like when he grows up. Or if we'll even love each other enough to get married.'"_ Her mind flashed to what she'd been reading on naturalization. She'd often thought, that if she'd ever found Tim, she would want to become a naturalized American citizen, so that they could be a real family and raise Asher together-

She shook her head. Who knew if she would ever get the chance to become a citizen?

"_'I know I'm starting at a very young age. Not even fifteen and already so independent – that's a little hard for other people to understand. I'm pretty sure Margot would never kiss a boy unless there was some talk of an engagement or marriage. Neither Peter nor I have any such plans. I'm sure that Mother never touched a man before she met Father. What would my girlfriends or Jacque say if they knew I'd lain in Peter's arms with my heart against his chest, my head on his shoulder and his head and face against mine!'_" She chuckled. By eighteen, she had already done that and so much more- conceived, carried and given birth to a child. But she understood what Anne meant.

Curling up on the sofa, she turned another page, becoming lost in another passage._ "'Suddenly the everyday Anne slipped away and the second Anne took her place. The second Anne who's never overconfident or amusing, but wants only love and to be gentle. _

_ I sat pressed against him and felt a wave of emotion come over me. Tears rushed to my eyes; those from the left fell on his overalls, while those from the right trickled down my nose and into the air and landed beside the first. Did he notice? He made no movement to show that he had. Did he feel the same way I did? He hardly said a word. Did he realize he had two Annes at his side? My questions went unanswered.'" _

That, she knew. All too well. "You and I are one and alike, Anne." She whispered, glancing towards the kitchen briefly before continuing to read.

"_'... a harder crowbar.'_" She chuckled. "Tim will have to use a gun."

"_'I know very well that he was my conquest, and not the other way around. I created an image of him in my mind, pictured him as a quiet, sweet, sensitive boy badly in need of friendship and love! I needed to pour out my heart to a living person. I wanted a friend who would help me find my way again. I accomplished what I set out to do and drew him, slowly but surely, toward me. When I finally got him to be my friend, it automatically developed into an intimacy that, when I think about it now, seems outrageous.'_" She took a deep breath.

Tim was never a conquest. Tim had been...

"Oh, so _you_ get to read during lunch, but I cannot? That is not fair,_ Ima_!" Her head snapped up to find Asher standing directly across from her, hands on his small hips and a glare on his features. His green eyes sparked in annoyance and Ziva rushed to put the book away. But by then, he'd already rushed into the kitchen. "_Abba! Ima_ told me I cannot read during lunch, but she is reading!" Tim chuckled as Ziva sheepishly entered the kitchen and joined them at the table.

* * *

><p>"I have never seen him so frightened as he was this morning." Tim whispered, as Ziva climbed into bed after checking on Asher. After lunch, they'd gone to the park, and as she and Tim sat on a bench talking, Asher had gone to the swings, keeping a close eye on his parents. After about ten minutes, he'd returned, climbing into Tim's lap and curling against his chest. Ziva had watched as Tim subconsciously wrapped his arms around his son, pressing a kiss to the dark curls.<p>

She pulled the blankets around her, settling into his embrace. "I have." She whispered, curling into his chest. "It is not uncommon to see fear such as that in Israel."

"Well, he's in America now, you both are, so he doesn't need to fear anything anymore."

She sighed. "I know." Then, she tilted her head up to look at him. "You _did_ explain to him the ways to become an American citizen, _ken_? That he is American by blood, and that I will need to become an naturalized citizen?" He nodded. "Good."

"You been looking up on how to become a citizen?" She nodded against his chest. "You know, you can cut down the amount of time it takes to become a citizen by way of marriage." She pulled way, eyes wide in surprise as she sat up and pulled her hair over her shoulder. Her voice was soft as she jokingly asked,

"Timothy McGee, did you just propose?"

He chuckled, reaching up to caress her cheek. "Just something to think about, Ziva." He then leaned close, kissing her gently. She grinned, tapping his chest lightly before playing with the buttons.

"Just for something to think about, Tim, my answer would always be yes." She replied, kissing him again before settling down as he turned out the light.


	38. Chapter 38

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

Tim stretched, feeling the now-familiar weight against his chest. Ziva lifted her head, meeting his sleepy gaze with her own. "Morning." She smiled softly, reaching up to brush her fingers against his cheek. A moment passed, before she leaned close and pressed her lips to his in a soft kiss. He reached up, tangling his fingers in her dark hair. Before either one could think, Ziva found herself pressed into the pillows, Tim's mouth working diligently on her neck, scraping, sucking and biting gently at her neck. She reached up, tangling her fingers in his hair, dark eyes closing as she let him work on her skin. Eventually, he pulled away, and his eyes drank in the bruises appearing on her tanned skin. His green eyes sparked with pride, even if Asher hadn't been the defining confirmation that Ziva was his, the bites on her neck were ample enough proof that she belonged to him. Slowly, her dark eyes opened and she grinned, pulling him down for another kiss-

"_Abba? Ima_?" Slowly, Tim pulled away and rested his forehead to Ziva, before turning his gaze to their son. Asher stood at the side of the bed, watching with curiosity in his green eyes.

"Good morning, my angel." Ziva whispered, hiding the annoyance in her voice as Asher ducked his head.

"Sorry, _Ima_." She sighed as Tim moved off her, and got up, ruffling his son's hair before disappearing into the bathroom. She heard the shower start, and after a moment, she sat up, reaching out for her son. The boy quickly scrambled onto the bed and settled into his mother's arms.

"It is okay. Come here." She wrapped her arms tight around him, holding him to her chest. "Now, what is wrong?" She searched his face for a moment, before the boy shifted until he was leaning back against her. "Asher Malachi, tell me." She whispered firmly as the boy tilted his head up to look at her.

"_Abba_ said that I am American by blood." He laid he head back against her chest, reaching down to play with his mother's fingers. He studied them, noticing how small his hand was compared to hers.

"Mmhmm." She murmured, lacing their fingers so that his hand was protectively held against hers.

"Because he is American." She nodded, pressing a kiss to his head. "And that... you are not."

"_Abba_ is right." She whispered, reaching up with her other hand and brushing his bangs out of his face. She quickly glanced at her cell; a little after oh-three-hundred. Neither she nor Tim had to be at work until oh-six-hundred; sometimes they went in at five, if they could find the time and get going early enough. She thought a moment, and continued to stroke his head, before, "Asher, what is this about?" The boy tilted his head up briefly to look at her. He shrugged.

"What do you mean, _Ima_?" She narrowed her eyes. She could see straight through his innocent act.

"_Asher_." He sighed, laying his head back against her chest. He returned to playing with her fingers, picking gently at her nails and studying the lines on her skin.

"It says that... you can apply to be American if you... live in America for five years or more." He looked up at her again. "Are we going to live in America for five years?"

"Forever, if _Abba_ has his way." Ziva whispered. He nodded.

"Good." Something nagged at her, that that wasn't his only concern.

"Keep going."

"About what?" She squeezed his hand, digging her nails gently into his skin. The boy whimpered in pain, pulling his hand away. He pouted briefly, before returning to playing with her fingers; once again, Ziva laced their fingers, waiting for him to speak.

"_Asher_." He swallowed, and looked up at her. She looked down at him, meeting his green gaze upside down. "What is the problem? Hmm? What has you so..." She struggled to think of the American expression, but gave up after several minutes. "What is wrong, my angel?" He shook his head.

"Nothing, _Ima_." As he laid his head back against her chest and returned his gaze to her fingers, he muttered, "It says if you live in America for three years you can apply to become an American... if you are married." Then, he pulled away and slid off the bed, rushing to the door just as Tim came out of the shower, a towel around his waist, his hair damp. He managed to grab his son's arm as he passed.

"Whoa, hey, what's a 'matter?" Asher glanced at his mother, before pulling away from his father and rushing from the room. His bedroom door slammed and Tim turned to Ziva. "Did you see that?" He asked, turning to Ziva, who was too stunned by Asher's response to hear Tim's. "Hey." She turned as Tim perched on the bed, reaching for her. "Hey, what's wrong? Ziva?" She shook her head, finally seeing Tim for the first time and giving him a small smile.

"Nothing is wrong, Tim, I promise." She leaned over, pressing a kiss to his lips before climbing out of bed. "Is there still any hot water left?" He nodded, turning to her and watching as she began to strip as she headed into the bathroom. "I will not be long." She shut the door, but opened it after a couple moments. "Would you check on Asher for me?" He nodded, just as confused to Ziva's behavior as their son's.

Once he was partially dressed, he grabbed his shirt and slipped out of the room, heading down the hall. A soft knock brought no acknowledgement, so he gently pushed the door open. Asher was curled up on the his bed, his back to Tim. "Asher?" After a moment, he went around the bed, perching on the side so he could his son's face. "Hey, what's a' matter?" The boy looked up, meeting Tim's eyes before his gaze moved, and he sat up, looking at the tattoo on his father's back.

"Is this the other one?" Tim nodded, shifting so his son could get a better look. Gently, the boy's fingers moved over the design, and he stopped, confused. Again, he ran his fingers over his father's back, and again, he felt the strange bumps on his father's skin. "What are these?" He asked, his gaze moving lower, past the tattoo to the scars on his father's lower back. Tim swallowed.

"Nothing you need to know about right now." He replied, pulling on his shirt. As he turned back to face his son, he asked, "Now, talk to me. What happened back in the bedroom, huh? Did _Ima_ say something, or..." The boy kept quiet. "You can talk to me, you know."

"I know,_ Abba_." Tim nodded.

"Okay. So... you want to tell me?" The boy sat up, moving to the edge of the bed. He bit his lip and glanced at his father. "I'm sure it's not as scary telling me as it was telling_ Ima_." He joked, trying to lighten the mood. A moment passed, before the boy curled his toes in his socks before kicking his feet, his gaze never leaving his blue-colored toes. He swallowed, muttering,

"Abba, did you know that... that if you live in America for three years you can apply to become an American?" Tim nodded.

"Yes, I did." Asher nodded, looking up at his father as he bit his lip.

"But... but only if you are married." Then, he hopped off the bed, grabbed his shoes and his backpack and rushed from the bedroom, leaving Tim in the process of buttoning his shirt, stunned.


	39. Chapter 39

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

"Is Asher... is it normal for him to act... strange?" Ziva looked up from brushing her hair to see Tim come back into the bedroom. He glanced back over his shoulder, but Asher was in the living room, reading.

"What do you mean?" She asked, mid-brush. Tim licked his lips, turning to her. She sat cross-legged on the bed in only her underwear, brushing the wet tangles from her dark locks. Droplets of water cooled on her beautiful skin, but Tim was too distracted by his son's odd behavior to say anything. She thought, shrugging as she continued her work. "He has been quiet, but... he is always quiet. He was not a very fussy baby-"

"No, I... I mean..." He sighed, taking a seat on the bed beside her and pulling on his shoes. "I went in to talk to him, and he wouldn't look at me. And when he did... when I asked him to tell me what was wrong, all he said was that you 'can apply for American citizenship after three years if you're married.'" Ziva stopped brushing, her dark eyes snapping open. Slowly she raised her head, watching him.

"He told you, too?" Tim stopped pulling on his jacket, and turned to her. He narrowed his eyes.

"What do you mean 'you, too?' Ziva, what's going on?" She sighed, quickly finished brushing her hair and then set the brush down. "_Ziva. Talk to me_." She puffed out her cheeks, glancing at her hands before meeting his suspicious green gaze.

"When you were in the shower, Asher told me that you can apply to be an American if you live in America for five years. And then he asked if we would live in America for five years."

"What did you say?" Tim asked, returning to pulling his jacket on. She sighed and got up, going to him. Slowly, she wrapped her arms around his waist, staring into his eyes.

"I told him, that if you have your way, we will be living in America forever." Tim wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close.

"He's right. I'm not going to let you go now, not that I've got you back. And Asher... now that he's in my life, he's staying. You're both staying right here." She reached up, brushing her fingers against his cheek. "Go on." She took a deep breath.

"And..." Slowly, she pulled away, going to the closet and grabbing a red t-shirt from the hanger before pulling it on. "And then he..." She shook her head, grabbing a pair of tan cargo pants and stepping into them. Tim watched her, enjoying the sight of her shimmying the clothing up her small hips, and after a moment he grabbed a tie, putting it on before deciding against it and yanking it off. She pulled on a tan over shirt and turned to him, tossing her hair out of the collar; it cascaded down her back in loose waves. "And then he told me that if you live in America for three years, you can apply to be an American-"

"- but only if you are married." She looked up at him, surprised. "When I went to check on him, I asked him what was wrong, and that was all he said." She nodded in agreement, screwing her mouth up. Then, she followed him out of the room, joining them in the living room and accepting the backpack he handed her. Their fingers brushed, a sight that didn't go unnoticed by their son, who sat on the sofa, watching his parents closely. Ziva blushed.

"Sorry." Tim nodded as Ziva turned to Asher. "Come on, you are going to work with _Abba_ and I."

"What about school?" His parents shared a glance.

"We'll get that figured out next week, okay? Figured we'd take this week to get settled and used to everything." Tim replied, as Asher closed his book and got up. The boy grabbed his backpack, nodding. As they left the apartment, Asher stopped, turning to his father.

"You should propose, _Abba. Ima_ wants you too." Tim struggled for several minutes to say something, before his son turned and rushed to catch up with his mother. Shaking off the suggestion, Tim began to follow, before realizing he'd left his badge and gun sitting in the nightstand drawer. Silently, he slipped back into the apartment, heading to the bedroom. Quickly slipping the holster into the small of his back, he grabbed his badge and left the room, heading back to the door, when something caught his eye.

Slowly, he picked up the folded piece of paper, with Asher's slightly messy scrawl. A quick check told him this wasn't homework, or stories or drawings that he worked on when he was in his room. No, it was a short list. With a title, a list of numbers and a short list of various things he wanted. And not a single thing on the list was a toy or game.

_Things to Do to Get Abba and Ima Married_

It was slightly hard to make out, but that was indeed the title of his list. _This is definitely no bucket list. _

_1. Make Abba and Ima fall in love_

_2. Beg Abba to propose _

_3. Make Ima say yes_

_4. Get Abba and Ima married_

_5. Make Ima American_

The list was short, but obviously, the boy had put a lot of thought into how he could get his parents together. He was their only link, after all. But it was the last thing on the list that tugged at Tim's heart.

_6. Be a happy family- forever_

He knew their son wanted a family; hell, both he and Ziva had been desperate for the home neither one of them had ever had, so it was no surprise their son wanted the same. Except, unlike them, Asher was obviously willing to fight for it- he had a whole plan written out. Tim sighed. He would have been exactly like Asher, had his father been anyone but the Ambassador. And Ziva... well, it appeared that both Tim and Ziva's fathers had been cut from the same cloth, if not their children as well. Maybe that was why they'd been drawn to each other in the first place; finding what neither got from their parents in each other. And they, in turn, had created a child of their own. _But unlike us, Asher will be raised right. He'll be raised loved, and protected and he will always be our first priority. _

"_Abba, Ima _said to-" Tim looked up, as Asher came back into the apartment. The boy stopped, his eyes going to the paper in his father's hand. "Where did you get that?" Tim raised an eyebrow.

"You mind telling me what this is, Asher Malachi?" He asked, folding the paper and waving it at him. The boy started briefly, surprised to hear his father use his full name. But he recovered quickly and reached for the paper. "Nothing." He replied, snatching the paper from Tim's hand with ninja-like skills before stuffing it in his pocket and rushing from the apartment. Five minutes later, Ziva appeared.

"Tim?" He jumped, surprised to find her next to him. Her brow furrowed. "Is everything okay? You look like you have seen a goat."

"Ghost, Ziva. And... yeah, I'm fine." He quickly licked his lips, before taking her hand and pressing a soft kiss to her lips before pulling her to the door.


	40. Chapter 40

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

"Are you sure you are okay, Tim? You are awful quiet." He glanced at her, before glancing in the rear view mirror. Asher was buried in his book, not paying attention.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Ziva. I promise. Just... tired is all."

"Perhaps we should make a coffee run, _ken_?" She asked, grinning. Tim chuckled.

"Maybe." He agreed. She reached over, taking his hand in hers and squeezing briefly. Asher's green eyes watched before he returned to his book as Tim once again glanced at him in the mirror.

* * *

><p>Asher glanced at his parents as they rode the elevator. Tim and Ziva stood silently, sharing an entire conversation without saying a word, though the sight of their laced fingers told a different story. The boy grinned to himself, excited. Even if his parents refused to admit it to themselves or each other, they were falling in love- had always been in love- no matter how much they protested. When the elevator opened, Tim stepped out, letting go of Ziva's hand, and making a beeline for the director's office. Ziva took Asher's hand, and they waited by the bullpen for Tim to come back.<p>

"Director Shepard said she would be happy to watch over you, Asher, okay?" The boy nodded, licking his lips nervously.

"The redhaired lady that Mr. Gibbs likes?" He asked, glancing at his mother, who nodded.

"_Ken_. Jenny." Ziva clarified as Tim chuckled.

"Now, you be good for her, okay?" The boy nodded as Tim knelt down to stare into his own green eyes.

"I will _Abba_." He whispered. Though he liked Jenny, he still didn't like being separated from his parents. Especially Tim. After hearing their story up in Jenny's office, Asher didn't want to let his father out of his sight, for fear he would be taken away from them like he had been before Asher was even born.

Tim gave him a small smile. "Good." The boy wrapped his arms around his father's neck, holding tight to him. "I love you." He whispered, pressing a kiss to his son's head.

"I love you too, _Abba_." Then, Asher went to Ziva before following Cynthia upstairs to Jenny's office. Neither one noticed the boy turn back on the stairs and watch them. Once they were gone, Tim led Ziva around a corner, pulling her into his arms. He buried his face in her hair, breathing in the sweet scent of her blackberry shampoo, before pressing a kiss to the side of her head.

"I found a list." She pulled away, raising an eyebrow.

"What?" Tim sighed, leaning back again the wall and running his hands up her sides before taking her hands. It was just past oh-four-thirty, and the two had the whole bullpen to themselves, including the surrounding hallways and nooks. He nodded.

"Yeah, on the kitchen table. Asher wrote it. Said it was his_ 'List of Things to Do to Get Abba and Ima Married'_ and it had a list of things-"

"Wait, he told you?" Tim shook his head.

"No, he refused to tell me what it was. But it had a list of things to do to get us together."

"Like what?" She asked, lacing their fingers and leaning back on her heels. He let her lean back before pulling her gently forward.

"Like making us fall in love and having me propose and you say yes." She raised an eyebrow, leaning back again before allowing him to tug her forward. Only this time she stumbled, landing against his chest, sending him completely back against the wall. He grunted, wincing slightly as his back hit the wall, and Ziva looked up at him.

"Well, technically, you did propose, and technically, I did say yes." She met his gaze, grinning when he caught on about their conversation the night before. "So... _technically_, we are engaged."

"If you want to get _technical_." She nodded.

"_Ken_, of course, if you want to get_ technical_." She replied, gaze darting to his lips. "So, what else was on our son's... lips?" He noticed the slip, but didn't call her on it; instead, he focused on the way her teeth were worrying the soft skin of her bottom lip. She ran a hand down his chest, working on the buttons as she went, until she splayed her hand over the warm skin of his chest. She could feel his heartbeat beneath her fingers and smiled.

"Marry you and make you an American." He replied, one hand moving down to grasp her ass. She giggled, pressing herself closer to him.

"Smart boy; then again, he gets his mind from his_ Abba_." Tim grinned, and Ziva returned it. "And his _Abba_ is a smart man." A moment passed, before she whispered, "What else did his list say?" Tim pretended to think a minute, before,

"Be a happy family. Forever." He replied, pulling her closer. "And I intend to do just that."

He leaned down, capturing her lips in his. He ran his tongue over her lower lip, begging entrance, and after a moment, she let him. He pulled her closer, deepening the kiss with each tug closer. He tasted every nook and cranny of her mouth before slowly running his teeth along her bottom lip and tugging gently. After each gentle tug, he'd return his mouth to hers and drink her in more. Slowly, his hands moved from her waist and ass to her hips, sliding under the red shirt she wore to gently caress her skin. She tugged him away from the wall and walked him backwards, towards the men's bathroom, pushing him against the door. By the time the door closed behind them, he'd already pushed her shirt up, exposing her stomach, fingers playing along the skin that held the faint scars of the stretch marks she still bore from her pregnancy eight years prior. Her small hand worked to undo the rest of the buttons on his shirt as he lifted her onto the skin and worked to remove the tan jacket-like over shirt off her body as he continued to push the red t-shirt higher-

The only thing that stopped them both from going completely over the edge was the hard smack to both of their heads and the angry growl,

_"Keep your hands off each other or I will kill you both!"_


	41. Chapter 41

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

**A/N: Yes, this is _Silver War_... but not. **

**Thanks to skyjadeprincess and mcgeeksgirl for reviewing 37 and 40; Reader for reviewing 37, 38, 39 and 40; and Sazzita for reviewing 39 and 40.**

Gibbs catching them was as close to a cold shower as you could get.

Groaning, Tim pulled away, meeting her eyes. He reluctantly buttoned his shirt and watched as Ziva tugged hers back down before helping her off the sink. As they left the men's room, Ziva latched onto his hand. "So, what do we tell him?" She asked, glancing towards the catwalk, to find Jenny and Asher watching them. The boy waved to them, and they waved back before heading to the bullpen. She grabbed Tim's hand, digging her nails into his skin. He yelped softly. "What do we say?"

"If you squeezed that hard during Asher's birth, I'm kind of glad I wasn't there." She dug her nails deeper into his skin, drawing blood. He hissed in pain. "Okay, okay, I get it."

"You never answered my question, Timothy. What do we tell our son?"

"Tell him the truth. Best not to lie to kids; they're smart, they'll see right through it. And your son..." Gibbs chuckled softly. "He's brilliant, gets his brain from his father, after all." The two turned to find Gibbs come back into the bullpen, a fresh cup of coffee in his hands. Neither one had seen him leave-

"I'm gonna go get coffee." Tim replied. "What do want, Zi?" He asked, turning to her. Ziva started at the shortening of her name, but made no move to correct him. She called him Tim, so it made sense for him to shorten her name as well. She shrugged.

"I do not care, whatever you want to get me, Tim." She whispered, taking his hand and squeezing. He gave her a soft smile, and leaned close.

"I'll be back." He brushed his lips against hers briefly, before heading to the elevator. Once he was gone, Ziva looked around, before dropping her bag at Kate's desk. She pulled the orders she'd received out and quickly flipped through them before putting them back. By the time Tim returned, she had checked her cellphone eight times, finding it was just after five. "There you go." She grinned.

"_Toda_." She whispered, leaning close and kissing him. He set his own cup down and pulled her into his arms, capturing her lips in several soft kisses. Neither noticed Asher watching from the catwalk. "So, do we start work now, or-"

"Not until seven." He whispered. "And with Gibbs breathing down our backs-"

"We have nothing to do." She ran a hand down his chest before moving to grasp his wrist and turn his hand over, pushing up the sleeve to reveal the tattoo. "I cannot believe you would defile your body like this, for Asher and I." She whispered, studying the intricate knot.

"It's not defiling." Tim replied, studying the tattoo. "It's keeping a part of him close; it's keeping my son with me, no matter what he does in his life. He will always be with me." She returned the smile he gave her, leaning down to press a kiss to his wrist. Then, she reached for the buttons on his shirt, undoing each one before pulling it off. Upstairs on the catwalk, Jenny was surprised to see the tattoo on her agent's back. She leaned towards Asher, never taking her eyes off Tim's back.

"I didn't know your father had a tattoo." Asher grinned, looking at her.

"He got it for_ Ima_. He got one for me too. And _Abba_ said, that if he ever gets another one, I can go with him and watch." Jenny nodded, attention returning to her agent as Ziva spoke up again. Tim had since turned his back to Ziva, and she was running her fingers over his back, tracing the star and knot.

"You covered up the pain of that night, with a new pain." She whispered. Though intrigued, Jenny forced herself to lead Asher back to her office, even as Tim turned to glance at her over his shoulder. "Was it worth it, Tim?" He turned to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her close.

"You and Asher will always be worth it." He breathed, kissing her gently before pressing a kiss to her forehead. Neither noticed Gibbs enter the bullpen.

"Put your shirt back on, McGee, this isn't a strip-" But the older agent stopped, seeing the tattoo on Tim's back. It was intricate, a blending of two cultures, two faiths, joining and becoming one. As his eyes moved over it, he saw the raised skin beneath. Scars. Horrible, hideous scars from something in Tim's past that he kept under lock and key. In a calm voice, he said, "Tim, my office, now." The younger man jumped, glanced over at his boss, and then took his shirt back from Ziva, squeezing her hand gently as he left.

Once inside the elevator, Tim moved to pull the shirt on, but Gibbs stopped him. With the lights out, he turned Tim so that his back was facing him, and slowly studied the design on his back before moving to the scars. "Who did this to you, Tim?"

"No one, the tattoo was my choice-"

"I don't mean the tattoo, I mean the scars on your back. How did you get them?" Tim swallowed pulling his shirt on and turning to face his boss; he had tried to avoid this. The less his boss knew about his past, the better, although that had all been shot to hell when Ziva had shown up with Asher. "Tim, how did you get them?" He asked, stepping closer to the younger man.

"There, was more... to my side of the story than I told you up in the Director's office..."


	42. Chapter 42

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

**Thanks to Sazzita, Reader and skyjadeprincess for reviewing 41.**

Ziva looked around; she was the only one, besides Tim, Gibbs and a few others, that was here early. Sighing, she sat back in her chair and reached up to play with her necklace. She had joined Mossad like she was supposed to; the good daughter, even though she was no longer of her father's family, as far as he was concerned. But her mother had been concerned.

_"I do not want you joining, Zivaleh." _

_"I have no choice, Ima." Rivka grabbed her arm. _

_"You have a choice! That baby you brought into this world two months ago should be your choice!" She glanced towards the living room, where Tali was holding Asher, playing with his fingers and making funny faces at him. _

_"Avner returned to Mossad, and he had children-"_

_"Do not use a one time incident to justify your reasoning, Ziva. Avner was forced back into it-"_

_"To avenge the deaths of the Israelis in Munich!" _

_"That was his choice to return, Ziva! Not yours!"_

She took a deep breath, glancing nervously at the clock. What was taking Tim so long? If she didn't find something to do soon, she would go crazy. Her fingers tangled in the chain of her necklace.

_"I have to, Ima-"_

_"No, what you have to do, is be a mother to your son." Rivka replied, reaching up and taking her daughter's face in her hands. Ziva shook her head._

_"I have no choice-"_

_"Ken, you do! Ziva, you do! Think about it! Think about that baby boy! He needs you!" Her daughter pulled away, turning to watch her sister and son._

_"It is my duty, Ima-"_

_"Screw duty, Zivaleh!" The shock on her daughter's face was evident. "Any duty you had to your father died the night you conceived Asher with that Ambassador's son, do you hear me? Your duty is to your son, not your father. Do you think he would want you go into Mossad if he were here?" She swallowed._

_"But he is not, Ima. And I have no choice. I have to make a living somehow-"_

_"And you will, but not with Mossad." Rivka said, taking her daughter's hands. "Please, Ziva, do not do this. Do not go into Mossad. You may never get out. And if you do, it will not be of your own free will, it will be in a body bag, at your father's feet. Ziva, please, I am begging you. Think of Asher. He needs you."_

She swallowed. But she had gone back, against her mother's wishes. It had been because of him that she had joined; she needed the money to give him what he needed, to be a good mother, like she so desperately wanted to be. She thought back to Tim's words,

_'You and Asher will always be worth it.'_

He was right. Asher was worth it. Asher was worth the grueling hours, the missions, the near-death experiences. Asher was worth it all, because she always had him to come home to. She had her son to cuddle and love and play with, to make smile and laugh. Yes, Asher was worth it, and now, so was Tim. But then again, in the back of her mind, Tim had always been worth it.

* * *

><p>"So, your father beat you, with a fireplace poker, after discovering you and Ziva together? Let me just make sure I have that clear." Tim nodded. He had told Gibbs everything, and now looked up at his boss from his place on the floor, back against the wall.<p>

"Yep. That's it in a nutshell." Tim played with the sleeve of his shirt, pushing it back to expose his tattoo for Asher. Gibbs knelt down, leaning close to see the beautifully intricate tattoo. A moment passed, before he was able to pick out the boy's name and date, as well as the meaning of his name. Sighing, he took a seat beside his youngest agent, taking his hand to study the soft curves and spirals of the tattoo.

"How did Ziva take to seeing these?"

"She doesn't understand how I can have this done. She says I'm defiling my body." Tim shrugged. "I'm doing it for her, and for Asher. So it doesn't bother me. Besides, I told her today that this," He nodded to the tattoo. "is so I'll have a piece of Asher with me no matter what he does in his life." Gibbs chuckled.

"Good thing to have. And the one on your back?" Tim sighed.

"I got the Celtic knot the summer before I started at John Hopkins. I left the center open, but I didn't know why, until Ziva showed up with our son. And then I knew." He shrugged. "I guess I always knew."

"So you covered the scars on your back from that night." Tim nodded, meeting his boss's eyes.

"Yeah. I did. Because it's in the past, Boss. It's in the past, and I've moved on, and the_ only_ thing that's important now, the _only_ thing that matters to me now from that night, are Ziva and Asher. They are all that matters. They are the only thing that matters, that is worth hanging onto from that night. Ziva and our son. They are my life, they are my family. Them and Sarah are all I need. I don't need anyone else as long as I have them."

Gibbs listened, searching the younger man's face, but all he saw was absolute and complete honesty within the green depths. Clearly, Tim was doing everything he could to make sure Ziva and Asher got settled into their new life in America. He was doing everything possible to make sure he got to know his son; he wasn't wasting any time. "You're doing good, Tim." He whispered, gently grasping the back of his neck. "You're doing good."


	43. Chapter 43

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

Her head snapped up when she heard the elevator doors open. Tim gave her a small smile as he returned to the bullpen, before going to her and pressing a soft kiss to her lips. Just as she opened her mouth to ask what the conversation was about, Asher rushed down the steps from the director's office. "_Abba_!" The two looked up, even as Tim moved around the desk and knelt down, catching his son as the boy rushed towards him.

"Oh! Come here, buddy!" Tim toppled back onto the floor, pulling Asher into his lap as they sat on the floor beside Kate's former desk. "Now, what-"

"I'm sorry Agent McGee-" He looked up to see Cynthia coming into the bullpen.

"It's okay, Cynthia." He gave the woman a small smile before turning back to his son. "Now, what is so important-" Asher pulled a folded piece of paper out of his jacket and unfolded it, handing it to his father. Tim took it, not at all surprised to find a drawing on it.

"It's you and_ Ima_ and me." The boy said, proudly. Tim chuckled, handing it to Ziva.

"Thank you. I love it." He pressed a firm kiss to his son's head, as Ziva handed it back.

"What are you going to do with it?" Asher asked, as his father stood, helping him to his feet.

"I am going to place this on my corkboard next to my desk, so I will always be able to see it, okay, how about that?" The boy nodded eagerly, as Ziva pulled him into her lap and pressed a kiss to his head. When Tim finished, he turned to them. "There. How about that?" Asher looked up at Ziva, grinning, before he climbed off her lap and rushed to Tim. This time, he knelt down and caught his son as he rushed at him. As he settled the child on his hip, Asher said,

"I will make you more,_ Abba_!" Tim grinned.

"I would love that." The boy wrapped his arms around his neck, and Tim pressed a kiss to his head, breathing in his scent. He pressed another kiss to his son's dark curls, just as the elevator opened and Tony entered, shuffling over to his desk.

"You look like Death run over." Asher said, turning to watch as Tony began brushing his teeth, his back to them.

"Warmed over." Tim gently corrected. Asher turned to his father, nodding in understanding.

"And Death would probably be as horrified as I am, Agent DiNozzo." A moment passed, before Tony turned, to see Tim shift his son on his hip. He stared at the kid, before turning and finding Ziva sitting at Kate's desk.

"What is the kid doing here? And... what are you doing here?" The younger agent glared at him, before pressing a kiss to his son's head and glancing at Ziva before joining her. Silently, Tim shifted his son onto his other hip as Ziva sat back in her chair and thought a moment, glancing at Tim.

"Um... waiting."

"For what?" Tony asked, clueless.

"To start work." She glanced at Tim. "Does everyone always come in this late?"

"It's zero-seven-hundred. Didn't you talk to her about this?" Tim shrugged, keeping silent.

"At Mossad we start at zero-five-hundred."

"What is Mossad?" Everyone turned to Asher, who shrunk back, curling against his father. Ziva's dark eyes flashed, and she shook it off, giving her son a big smile.

"Nothing that little boys like yourself need to be concerned with. Now that you have given _Abba_ his picture, how about you go back up with Jenny and color some more for him?" Asher nodded as Tim set him down. Quickly, Ziva pressed a kiss to his head, but the boy stopped, turning to his father.

"Can we get Nutter Butters first?" His parents shared a glance, before Ziva nodded and got up, kneeling in front of him so he would pay attention.

"All right, but _Abba_ is to take you to the break room, you are not to go by yourself, understood?" Asher nodded eagerly, latching onto Tim's hand and tugging for him to come. Meanwhile, Tony had made his way to Kate's desk, watching Ziva closely.

"Let me rephrase the question. What the hell are you doing here, Ziva? Besides living with Tim and raising his son, I get that. But what are _you_ doing _here_?" She stood, realizing that she hadn't been fully clear.

"I see. Gibbs did not tell you. Mossad has assigned me to NCIS as a liaison officer. We are going to be working together. Permanently."

"Gibbs know?" She stared at him as if he'd lost his mind.

"Do you think I would be here to work if he did not?" She chuckled, finally noticing his appearance, just as Tim returned from the break room with Asher. Quickly, Ziva covered her mouth lightly with her fingers. "You might want to do something about your hair. It is sticking up like a... porcuswine... no, wrong word.. porcupig... the little animal with the little spikeys, _ken_?" She demonstrated with her fingers on her forehead.

"Porcupine." Tim corrected as he joined them.

"Porcupine! _Toda_, Timothy." She breathed his name softly, giving him a smile as Asher went to her and gave her a quick hug before doing the same to Tim and rushing back up the stairs to Jenny's office. She picked up the still hot coffee Tim had gotten before they came in, and took a sip, sitting back down. "Anyone have a key for this?" She gestured to the desk.

"That's _Kate's_ desk." Tim said, suddenly realizing where she was sitting. Ziva stared at him.

"But if I am going to be part of your team-"

"You're part of our team?" Tim asked, surprised. Ziva nodded.

"_Ken_. Timothy, you _know_ that. The day I introduced you to your son, Jenny-" She stopped, grabbing the green folder with the paperwork and handing it to Tim. He quickly scanned it before handing it to Tony. "Here are my orders, that you have already seen, Timothy, remember, signed by Director Shepard." She glanced at the younger agent. The elevator doors dinged open, and all three turned. Snatching the folder back, Ziva moved towards Gibbs, holding out a hand, but he just turned and headed back into the elevator.

"Ms. David, my office, _now_." She glanced at Tim before slowly following the older agent.


	44. Chapter 44

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

Once the elevator doors closed behind them, he hit the emergency switch and turned to her. She kept her gaze on the doors, trying hard to not make eye contact. "You requested this assignment, Ziva?" She glanced up at him, nodding, as he took the folder from her hands and stepped closer.

"I did."

"Besides Tim being Asher's birth father-"

She swallowed. "I needed to get away from Mossad for awhile." A moment passed, as she glanced at him before turning her gaze back to the door. Emotion began to well in her voice as she spoke of the little boy that had brought her so much happiness. "I needed... to get Asher away from the violence; I grew up around that, and it... it nearly destroyed me." She met his gaze. "And Tim... and Asher..." She bit her lip. "They saved me. They do not know it, but they did; they both did. Tim gave me a precious gift... what Ari said that night was true." She sniffled, struggling to remain in control.

"Asher has_ always_ been my first priority. I could... I could not let my son see the same violence. I could... I could not allow him to be... shaped as I was. I needed my son to be safe, because he was not safe in Israel. And he never would be. But here..." She swallowed. "Here, with Tim... with his father... he is. Because Tim has made it very clear, that he will do all he can to protect Asher." She reached up, quickly grasping her necklace. "I knew that the only way to get my son out of Israel and away from the violence, was to come to America; come to America, and find Tim, and... and make a life with him, and give our son the family neither Tim nor I ever got. I knew that America was the safest place I could think of."

"You believe what Ari said about your father-"

"No." She shook her head, meeting his gaze. "Maybe." She sighed, swallowing. "Yes."

Gibbs stepped closer, and she turned her gaze back to the doors, unable to hide the tears in her eyes. "Your brother was a Svengali, Ziva. No matter what good he did delivering your son- Tim's son- he was still a Svengali." She choked on a sob, the tears evident in her voice.

"Like father, like son."

"Does Mossad know you killed Ari-"

"_No_. They believe your report. Only you and I and Tim know the truth. For that, I thank you."

Gibbs nodded, understanding that she had told Tim because she had needed him at that moment, after the bullet pierced her brother's skull. "I trust you, you know that. But when we leave this elevator-"

"You start kicking my butt." He sighed.

"I don't kick butt." He hit the emergency switch before lightly tapping the back of her head. She stared at him, surprised, and he smiled at her. By the time the exited, Asher had come back downstairs with more drawings for Tim's desk, and was happily chatting with his father about something- something Tim obviously had no idea about, but was just going along to appease his son- as he tacked drawing to the corkboard. "Ms. David will be with us for a while."

"Don't you mean permanently since she's living with McDaddy over here?" Tony asked, chuckling as he watched Tim gently rub his son's hand; the boy had accidently tacked his thumb instead of the paper, and it stung. Tim, acting on pure instinct, blew gently on the sore skin before pressing a kiss to it, making the little boy smile. Ziva felt her heart flip as she watched Asher climb onto his father's lap, but he immediately got up and rushed to his mother when he noticed her step back into the bullpen.

"_Ima_!" He hopped off Tim's lap, rushing to his mother, who scooped him up and settled him on her hip with a smile. "I tacked my thumb, and _Abba_ made it better." Her eyes widened in mock surprise as she glanced at Tim.

"He did?" Asher nodded. "Did you tell him thank you?" The boy nodded again. "Good." Then, she pressed a kiss to his head before setting him back on the floor. "Now, go back upstairs with Jenny, and _Abba_ and I will see you soon." The boy did as told, passing Gibbs before stopping.

"_Toda_, Mr. Gibbs, for my desk!" The older man chuckled, nodding silently as the boy rushed upstairs. Tim sighed and sat back in his chair.

"He is quite the ball of energy." Ziva chuckled.

"Could you imagine having three of them? Driving you both up the wall." Tony asked, causing Tim and Ziva to share a startled glance.

"Why would we drive up a wall?" She asked, going towards the desk directly across form Tony's. Gibbs grabbed the back of her bag, stopping her.

"It's an expression, Ziva." Tony replied.

"That's Kate's desk. Yours is down at the end." She sighed as Gibbs pushed her towards Tim. She stopped at Tim's desk, leaning over it.

"He is a tough one to read." Tim chuckled, reaching out and laying a hand on hers.

"You'll find that most NCIS Agents are like that, Ziva; it's our training." One slender eyebrow rose.

"Is that a fact, Tim?" She leaned closer, meeting his gaze.

"Mmhmm. We never let other people know what we're thinking." She looked him quickly up and down, before taking his hand and pushing the sleeve up, exposing the tattoo for their son on his wrist. Gently pressing a soft kiss to the tattoo, she met his gaze, whispering,

"Right now, you are thinking of doing Page Fifty-seven with me." He raised an eyebrow, impressed.

"And how exactly-"

"I've read it, _too_, Tim. And I know you." She whispered, leaning close and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He reached up, taking her chin in his hand and pulling her closer.

"So, you think we should... stop taking it slow?" She shrugged, even as he leaned over to whisper, "Because I'm all for that." He pressed a kiss to her head, before moving to kiss the space beneath her ear. She giggled, pushing him away with a look.

"Tim, we agreed to take it slow. For Asher, remember?"

"You can be a real killjoy sometimes, you know that?" She snorted, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"I thought that was one of the things you liked about me." She replied, moving away from his desk and dropping her things at the desk behind the partition next to his.


	45. Chapter 45

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

**Thanks to Sazzita for reviewing 42, 43 and 44; skyjadeprincess for reviewing 44; mcgeeksgirl for reviewing 42; and Reader for reviewing 42, 43 and 44.**

"_Abba_?" Tim looked up from his paperwork. Asher was kneeling in front of his desk, chin resting on his hands. "Can we go home?" Tim sighed, glancing at Gibbs before gesturing for the boy to come closer. He pulled his son onto his lap, wrapping his arms around him. The boy looked up at him, listening silently.

"Asher, we can't just go home whenever we feel like it. I have a job to do, a very important job, and as much as I _want_ to go home and spend time with you and _Ima_, we're working a case, and right now-"

"Go home, McGee." Tim's head snapped up, to find Gibbs watching him and the tender way he talked to his son; most likely reliving some long ago memory of Kelly. He struggled to form words for several minutes, before,

"Boss?"

"Go home. You and Ziva both. Spend some time with your son. You've earned it." Asher's face lit up, and he turned wide green eyes to Gibbs.

"Really?" The older man nodded. "_Toda_, Mr. Gibbs! _Toda_!" He cried, climbing off Tim's lap and rushing across the bullpen to throw his arms around the older agent in a hug. Gibbs did well to hide his surprise, and instead, just watched as his parents gathered their things and met at the entrance to the bullpen. As he walked the boy back to his parents, he leaned towards Tim, whispering,

"You have us, too, Tim. You'll always have us."

* * *

><p>They picked up takeout, because neither one felt like cooking. As Ziva dished the food out onto the plates, Tim slid his arms around her from behind and pressed a kiss to her temple. She giggled, turning to look at him. Asher watched from his perch on the sofa, the book in his lap virtually forgotten at the sight of his parents acting domestic together. "You sure that you and Asher can have Chinese? I know they use some beef, but the pork is... well, pork." Ziva shrugged, grabbing a bottle of something and adding it to the chow mien before adding a packet of something else and mixing it.<p>

"Honestly, I have not been paying as much attention as I should to what is kosher and what is not. My father would say that... America is ruining me." Silence fell between them for a moment before she snorted in derision. "I think the opposite. It is improving me." She glanced over her shoulder at him. "Just like you are." She held out a chopstick with chow mien, and he rolled his eyes, but let her play out her little fantasy.

"What did you _add_ to it?" He coughed lightly, surprised at the spice. She grinned.

"Tabasco and soy sauce." He raised an eyebrow.

"Tabasco and..." He rolled his eyes. "Has Sarah been getting to you?" She shook her head.

"No." She turned to face him, grinning.

"Well then, have you _tried_ it yourself?" She shook her head. "Oh, so you have _me_ play the guinea pig." He replied, grabbing a pair of chopsticks and forcing her to try her own concoction. She accepted the noodles after some coaxing, and giggled, finally swallowing the bite. She licked her lips, nodding.

"Not bad. If I say so myself." She slid her arms around his neck, capturing his lips in a quick kiss. "But I like this better." She whispered against his lips, as his hands slid around her waist. He pulled her closer, drinking in her taste; she giggled softly, tangling her fingers in his hair. Asher watched his parents at the kitchen counter, and after a moment, he got up and grabbed a pencil from his backpack, crossing off the first thing on his list.

He glanced back at his parents, but they hadn't moved.

One down, five to go.

* * *

><p>"Can we eat?" The two broke part, to see their son standing in the kitchen, watching them intently. "Are we going to eat? Soon?" Blushing, Tim stepped back from Ziva, and then rushed to grab the tea kettle before the water boiled dry. Once they sat down to eat, Asher glanced at both his parents, before turning to Ziva, asking, "<em>Ima<em>, what is Mossad?"

She choked, dropping her chopsticks. "Where did that come from, my angel?" She asked, after catching her breath. The boy looked up at her.

"You mentioned Mossad today. What is it?" Ziva glanced at Tim, sighing. She pushed her plate to the side and folded her arms on the table.

"Asher, you have to understand, that some of the things I have done in the last eight years..." She licked her lips. "They are not good things, and I regret them more than anything. But the one thing I never regretted was you." He looked at Tim before turning back to Ziva.

"What did you do, Ima?" She sighed.

"Mossad is the Israeli Intelligence Agency-"

"So the police?"

"Kind of." She glanced at Tim, who stayed quiet, knowing this was Ziva's story to tell. "We... collect information, and analyze intelligence and perform secret operations outside of Israel. That is why I am stationed here. I am a liaison for NCIS, which means we work together."

"But... what does Mossad do?" She swallowed the lump in her throat.

"Sometimes, our operations involve... committing murders..."

"Like... killing people?" She nodded. "Like Tali _Doda_?" Her head snapped up and she shook her head violently.

"No. No, Asher. Tali's death was _not_ Mossad's doing. Tali died because of Hamas. They killed her. And I..." She swallowed, taking a deep breath, tears beginning to come to her eyes. "I killed them in revenge. I killed them, to avenge my sister's death..."

_The bomb was set, now all she had to do was wait. The wait was not long._

_She watched through the car window, waiting for her target to start the ignition. And then her heart plummeted into her shoes. The man she had targeted, the man who had killed her sister, was sitting in the car, waiting as a woman- most likely his wife- buckled their daughter into her car seat in the back. She could stop it, she could just walk away, now. Except it was too late. The bomb was strapped to the bottom of the car, and as soon as he started the ignition, the whole thing would blow. Killing all inside. _

_One murderer and two innocents._

_When the bomb exploded, all she could hear was the child's screams. Tears in her eyes, she gunned the motor and rushed from the scene._

She sniffled, the tears dripping off her chin onto the table. "It is strange, you know, to think of one's self as... an assassin." She looked up at them. "So you... you have to... think of yourself as something else then." She shook her head. "That night, I became no better than the man who took Tali from us." Her gaze shifted to Asher, who sat watching his mother silently. "I returned home that night... and you... you were the reason I made the choices I did. You are the reason we came to America. It was too dangerous; I was too deep in Mossad, and if I went any deeper... I would have never come back. I needed to get out, to save both of us."

She sniffled. "Mossad... we are supposed to be righteous... if I lose that, if I lose you, or _Abba..._ that is my soul. I do not expect you to understand, my angel, or to ever forgive me, but... but I had no choice. I could not sit back and let Tali die for nothing..." She broke down then, only to look up when Asher climbed into her lap and wrapped his arms around her neck.


	46. Chapter 46

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

"Hey, you okay?" She looked up; Tim stood in only his pajama bottoms, watching her as he turned down the bed. She nodded as she slowly undressed. The next thing she felt, was the warmth of his strong arms going around her. "He understands. He may not understand it all, but he understands that you did it to protect him. Okay?" She nodded, turning and resting her head on his shoulder.

* * *

><p>"Morning, <em>Abba<em>." Tim looked up, to see Asher come in, dressed but not fully awake. He yawned, and Tim held out an arm, allowing the boy to shuffle over and curl into his side. He pressed a kiss to his son's head before scooping him onto his hip. The boy wrapped his arms loosely around his father's neck, and laid his head on his shoulder, being lulled back to sleep by his father's warmth and closeness.

"Tim-" Ziva stopped in the kitchen doorway, to see Asher balanced on his father's hip, practically sound asleep. Tim glanced at her, giving her a soft smile.

"Came in, told me good morning, yawned and-"

"Quickly went back to sleep." She finished, joining him at the sink. He nodded. "So, shall we head to work?" He chuckled gently, as the boy nuzzled his father's shoulder. She went to him, curling into his other side.

"How are you doing?" She looked up at him.

"Okay." She leaned close, pressing a kiss to his lips before grabbing his hand.

* * *

><p>"Be good for Jenny, okay, my angel?" Asher nodded. Tim had dropped Ziva and Asher off, saying he would be back soon with coffee, leaving the mother and son to take the uncomfortable elevator ride together. She pressed a kiss to his head, and pushed him gently towards the stairs. About the time Asher disappeared into the director's office, Tony showed up, looking better than he had the day before. By oh-six-thirty, Tim had returned with coffee, handing one to Ziva before tossing something wrapped to Tony. Lost in thought, Ziva pulled up the information they'd gathered the day before on the plasma.<p>

"A Marine, dressed as a Civil War soldier is shot by a musket, and then buried alive in a one-hundred-forty-year-old antique iron casket. And you are telling me this_ is not_ your strangest case?" She asked, turning to find both Tony and Tim and the breakfast burritos Tim had picked up for them. Both men nodded. "I do not know what I find more disturbing. Your eating habits or the fact that I _believe_ you."

"Do our strange American foods frighten you?" Tony joked. Tim chuckled. She glanced at Tim, laughing softly.

"Not at all. I was referring to your manners, _Tim_." She stepped closer. "You should have bought me one." She took the burrito from him, taking a bite with a grin. Tony watched, disgusted, before he realized Ziva was reaching for his. He quickly pulled his back, glaring before moving past the couple.

"I'm gonna go help Abby." He muttered, throwing a disgusted glance their way. Tim chuckled, going to his desk, Ziva following. She perched on the edge of his desk, taking the burrito as he sat down and began working at his computer.

"He is strange." Tim raised an eyebrow.

"This is Tony we're talking about, Ziva, examples are needed." She picked up his cup, taking a sip, watching as he grabbed hers- that she'd left on his desk- and did the same.

"Most men do not have a problem with my germs. Well, you do not, I hope." She grinned. He chuckled, leaning close.

"We share a child together, Zi, I think germs are the least of our worries." He kissed her quickly, before taking a bite of the burrito. She chuckled, glancing towards the catwalk, to find Gibbs, Jenny and Asher watching them.

* * *

><p>The sun was warm on her skin. Tim glanced back at her before stopping. "Would you just let me help-" She held the napkin out of his reach, glaring at him.<p>

"I am not a child, Tim. Though we _share_ a child, I am_ not_ one." He sighed, green eyes sparking at her.

"I'm just trying to help." She sighed in resignation, and handed the napkin to him.

"You may get what I missed, Tim." He took it, whispering 'thank you' softly to her before working on the smudge of dirt beneath her chin. They were in the small courtyard area near the bank, which sat directly across from a restaurant with outdoor seating and a couple small shops. Families sat outside on the benches, enjoying the sunlight and the warm weather. "Is Tony always so..."

Tim sighed. "Yeah."

"And Gibbs?"

"Oh, yeah."

"And Abby?" He thought a moment.

"Abby's... usually nice."

"So it is me. And... Asher."

"It's not you, Ziva. The last month has been hard on everyone. Although, you and Asher showing up didn't make it any _easier_, but, still, it's not you." She sighed, as he leaned down and pecked her quickly on the lips. "But I'm glad you're here." She chuckled as they headed towards the bank and started inside. Ziva stopped, glancing around. Something was off, very off. "Something wrong?"

"Nothing. Still getting used to America, I suppose." She turned and followed Tim into the bank.

* * *

><p>"Mommy?" She looked up from her menu; her oldest was watching something across the street.<p>

"What are you looking at, sweetheart?" She set the folder down and turned, following her daughter's gaze. The girl pointed to a woman standing directly across from them, in a pair of jeans and a brown shirt with a light little green zip-up sweater. Her dark hair was down around her face in curls, and she seemed to be watching something. She could only partially make out the conversation between the woman and her companion.

"... wrong?"

"... used to America..." Then, she turned and followed the man into the bank, dark curls bouncing as she rushed to catch up. She turned back to her children, confused. From the distance, she couldn't tell if the woman was the one she'd sent the pie to or not.

"She looks like Auntie."


	47. Chapter 47

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

"You know what this reminds me of, Tim?" He held out the evidence case for the map as she rolled it up again.

"Mossad case?" She shook her head.

"The_ Harry Potter_ novel." He raised an eyebrow.

"You've read those?" She nodded.

"Asher loves them. They are his favorites." He chuckled as they gathered what they needed, and quickly left, heading back towards the car. She squeezed his hand, giving him a smile, before a voice stopped them.

"Excuse me. You know where I can find Keller Avenue?" They turned, finding themselves facing a man in a plaid shirt, tan jacket, baseball cap and dark shades.

"Yeah, about four blocks, north of here." The man nodded, glancing over his shoulder.

"And I'm gonna need that map." Tim raised an eyebrow.

"Excuse me?" The man nodded behind him, and it was then that they saw the barrel of a gun facing them. Glancing at Ziva, he removed the evidence case and handed it to the man, before handing over his gun as well. The man quickly tossed it into the fountain.

"Now back up. I said back up!" Sharing a glance, they did as told, moving slowly back until the backs of their legs brushed the fountain. By this point, everyone was watching, intrigued by the standoff in the middle of the courtyard. Ziva glanced at Tim, loosely grasping his hand.

"Now what?" He asked, a hint of challenge in his voice; the man shrugged.

"Now you get wet." Before either one could ask, he'd shoved them both, sending them into the water with a splash; Ziva was thrown completely into the fountain, while Tim's shoes hit the rim. Most people watched in shock as the two came up gasping for air. But the woman sitting at the restaurant was up and rushing towards them, even as Tim scrambled to his feet and grabbed his gun, but by then, the guy and his accomplices were gone. He quickly put his gun away and pulled out his cellphone before tossing it into the fountain.

"Damn it! Gibbs is gonna kill me." Ziva pulled out her own gun, before slipping it back into her holster and pulling on her now wet sweater. She quickly ran her hands over her forehead, getting rid of the water as she looked down.

"Look on the bright side, Tim." He turned to her, hearing the footsteps rushing towards them.

"What bright side?" She shrugged, looking down at her clothes.

"At least I am clean again." He rolled his eyes.

"Are you two okay?" They both turned, to see young woman with short, chestnut curls standing in front of the fountain. Tim nodded and glanced at Ziva.

"Yeah, thank you, we're both just... just wet." Ziva sighed, as Tim moved towards the edge of the fountain. The woman held out a hand, helping him step over the rim. He gave her a small smile, and turned back to Ziva. "Well, on the bright side, Ziva, this will make an interesting story to tell Asher during dinner." The Israeli chuckled, and moved towards him, before losing her footing and landing back in the water. Both he and the woman reached into it, offering their hands. She grabbed them both, allowing them to help her to her feet and out of the fountain.

"_Toda_." Ziva gave the woman a quick nod as she turned and rang out her hair into the fountain. The woman nodded.

"_Al lo Davar_, Zivaleh." The Israeli's hands stopped, and she felt her breath catch. One four people called her by that diminutive; one had disowned her, and the other three were dead-

"Zi, you okay?" She swallowed, quickly glancing at Tim with a nod.

"K... _ken_, Tim. I... I am fine." She replied, returning to wringing out her hair.

"If you're fine, then why can't you look at me?" She swallowed thickly, closing her eyes, trying hard to ignore the voice. "Zivaleh, look at me. _Please_." She shook her head.

"No."

"Why not?" Tim watched the exchange, thoroughly and utterly confused by now, but he didn't know where or how to jump in. "Why can't you look at me, Zivaleh?" The Israeli shook her head, tears slipping down her cheeks and mixing with the water running from her hair.

"Because-" She swallowed.

"Because why?" Ziva took a deep breath.

"Because_ you are dead_." She sniffled, shaking her head. "And the dead never return to life."

The woman stepped closer, reaching out before thinking and pulling her hand back. "Please, Zivaleh, look at me. _Look at me_. That is all I'm asking." The Mossad Officer took a shaky breath, and slowly, turned to face the voice. The woman gave her a small smile, reaching out for her hand. "_Shalom_, sister." Ziva shook her head, fresh tears racing down her cheeks as she closed her eyes.

"No... Tali is dead... she died at sixteen... she..." The woman grabbed her hand, holding it tight.

"No I didn't, Ziva. They never found my body-"

"Because there were no remains-"

"No, because there was no body to find. Because I wasn't in that bomb blast that killed _Ima_. Because by the time that bomb went off, I was already on a plane, leaving Israel." Ziva continued shaking her head as she struggled to pull her hand away, but the woman refused to let her go. "Ziva please, look at me. Look at me, Zivaleh. That is all I want, for you to look at me." The woman reached up, caressing the Israeli's face as Ziva slowly opened her eyes. The woman gave her a small, shy smile, and she felt her heart stop.

No, it wasn't possible. Her baby sister was_ dead_, she was-

Standing in front of her, as alive as she herself was.

Swallowing thickly, she choked, "_Tali?"_ The woman nodded, tears coming to her own eyes.

"I thought I would never see you again, Zivaleh."


	48. Chapter 48

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

This couldn't be-

"You are not real." She choked out, but she soon found the woman pressing a firm kiss to her palm.

"Yes, I am, Ziva." But Ziva shook her head, closing her eyes, not wanting to believe that her greatest heartache was suddenly alive; she told herself this was a dream, and when she opened them, she would be in bed beside Tim, safe and sound. But when she did open her eyes, the woman still there. "You're not dreaming, Zivaleh. Neither of us are." Then, she pulled something from beneath her blouse; a Star of David necklace, identical to Ziva's. Eli had given one to each of his daughters on their sixth birthday, with their names engraved along the back of one of the triangle sides.

The woman turned the pendant over, showing the back of the star and the engraving.

_Talia._

She choked on a sob, covering her mouth with her hand. The woman nodded, tears in her own eyes as she wrapped Ziva in a hug. Slowly, the officer slipped her arms around the woman, letting her tears get the better of her. "I have missed you, sister." She whispered, pressing a kiss to the damp hair. Small feet soon rushed towards them, and the pair broke apart, to see two children, a girl and boy, standing with a man.

"Talia, sweetheart, who's-"

"Is this her?" The girl asked. Talia nodded, tucking a dark curl behind her ear.

"Ziva, these are my children, Esther and Benjamin, and my husband, Michael." She gave her family a smile. "This, is my sister, Ziva." Michael looked confused.

"I thought your sister was-"

"We all had that impression." Tim replied, returning. He'd dashed across the street to call Gibbs, and finally returned, surprised to see the man and children. "Zi, who-" She shook her head, only choking out,

"Tali..." Tim nodded, reaching out to take her hand before he stopped.

"You were the woman at the café... the... the berry..."

"Pie. Yeah. I..." She shrugged, unable to find words. After a moment, Ziva turned to Tim.

"What did Gibbs want? Is Asher okay?" Tim jumped, startled to find her back to business.

"Asher's fine, Zi. But we need to get back. Gibbs wasn't too happy to find out we'd let the evidence get away."

* * *

><p>"She is gone, Gibbs. I do no think Kate will mind." She watched him take a seat at his desk, and after a moment, got up, grabbing the sketchpad. "I found this," She handed it to him, presenting it like a precious jewel. "but I have a feeling she would of wanted you to have it." She gave him a small smile. "See you in the morning." Then, she grabbed her things and left, rushing downstairs to meet Tim and Asher in the parking garage.<p>

* * *

><p>They had agreed to meet at Tali's place, down in Alexandria. After rushing home to change, they soon found themselves waiting on the doorstep; it was a nice, two story home in Old Alexandria, the kind of place Ziva imagined living in as a child. "Maybe we should go-" She started, as the door opened, and Tali poked her head out. She grinned, opening the door and stepping aside to allow them to enter. As soon as they stepped into the foyer, Tali wrapped her arms around Ziva in a tight hug.<p>

"Come on. You need to meet the rest of the family." The living room was spacious, beautiful, and Tali didn't waste any time in proper introductions. She went to the sofa, where her children were sitting, looking through a photo album and knelt beside them. "Do you two remember the couple we met today?"

"The two that fell in the fountain?" The girl asked. She nodded.

"Yes. Well, that woman is my older sister."

"Auntie Ziva? But... but you said she was dead." Ziva struggled to hold back a sob, as the realization dawned that both girls had been lied to for the majority of their adult lives.

"I know. I thought so too. But she's not. She's here, and she wants to meet you." Tali stood, turning to her sister. "Come meet your niece and nephew." Slowly, Ziva stepped forward, but Asher's holding tight to her hand stopped her. She turned back.

"What is it, my angel?" She asked, kneeling in front of her son. The boy's green eyes flicked to the other woman, before returning to his mother.

"Who is she?" Ziva bit her lip.

"That... that is your _Doda_ Tali." Asher's brow furrowed, confused.

"But you said she died." Gently, Ziva took her son's face in her hand.

"I know, my angel. And for years, I thought she was. But I was wrong." She pressed a kiss to her son's head before getting up and going to her sister.

"Esther, Benjamin, this is your aunt, Ziva." Tali took her hand, squeezing gently, before giving her a small smile. Ziva returned it, before looking at her niece and nephew and feeling fear climb up her back.

"It is nice to meet you." A moment passed, before the girl got up and threw her arms around Ziva's waist.

* * *

><p>Dinner was filled with stories of growing up, of their various lives after their supposed deaths. Now though, they sat in the living room, and over coffee, told the story that linked Tim to both sisters. Benjamin looked at Tim, confused. "So... you're our uncle."<p>

"Not quite. Asher is our son, but Ziva and I aren't married. But..." He glanced at her, and she bit her lip, taking his hand and perching on the arm of the chair. "But we are engaged." Tali's mouth dropped.

"What? Why didn't you say anything to start with?"

"Because it is a... technical engagement." Ziva said.

"Technical?" Michael asked. "How can an engagement be technical?"

"We were... discussing naturalization, and Tim told me that you can shorten the wait to three years if you are married. I jokingly asked if he was proposing, and he..." She glanced at him. "He told me it was just something to think about. And I told him that my answer would... would always be yes. So, if you would like to get technical about it..." She stopped, blushing.

"Technically, we are engaged." Tim finished for her. She turned to him, grinning, before leaning over and capturing his lips in a kiss.

"_Really_?" The pair broke apart to see Asher bouncing in his seat. "You are engaged? _Really Abba_?" Tim nodded, glancing at Ziva.

"Yeah. We're engaged. Wh-" But he choked on the question when Asher launched himself at his father, climbing onto his lap and wrapping his arms around his neck.

"_Toda, Abba_! I love you!" Tim chuckled, glancing at Ziva.

"I love you, too." He whispered, pressing a kiss to his son's head. He then glanced at Ziva. "I love you, too." She smiled, mouthing the words back to him.


	49. Chapter 49

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

**A/N: Now for a little sister time...**

"I still-"

"I know. Neither can I." Ziva looked up, her gaze taken from the cup of coffee she held to her sister's face. The sisters has slipped out of the living room, taking refuge at the small breakfast nook not used for company, to catch up. Ziva sat pressed against the far wall, with a good view of the kitchen, but that was the last place her gaze was on.

It was on Tali.

Or, Talia, as she was known here, but she would always be Tali to her older sister. Her dark chestnut curls were tight against head, held back with a white headband, and the red blouse she wore with the black slacks and red ballet flats was a huge contrast to Ziva's simple purple spaghetti strapped dress with the ruffles on the bottom and the black heels she wore. Her hair was also down in loose waves, and her make up was nonexistent. It still didn't seem real, that she was sitting across from Tali, after all these years...

"You look good, Zivaleh." She gave her sister a small smile, reaching out to take the younger woman's hand.

"So do you." She bit her lip. "Tali, tell me. How did-"

"Did I get out? How did I survive the explosion that killed _Ima_?" Ziva nodded, silently. She sighed, taking a deep breath. "_Abba_ found out. That Ima and I had been... helping you... that we had been supporting you through your pregnancy, and... he put a hit out on us. But by then, Asher had been born, and you were doing okay on your own and... and I was going to school, looking at colleges... and _Ima_ and I... we just happened to be in downtown Tel Aviv when the bombing happened. Honestly, I don't remember that day. I remember the blast, and feeling something sharp hit my head, and when I woke up, I was on a plane, bound for the States. Michael was one of the people who helped me. I later found out that he was part of the Peace Corp, and..." She shrugged. "He helped me get situated here, and we started dating. Got married a year later, and I received my citizenship a year ago. I had Esther when I was eighteen-"

"Guess it runs in our blood, _ken_?" Ziva joked softly. Tali nodded.

"And Benjamin a year later." They lapsed into silence for several minutes. "When I inquired about you, Zivaleh, I was told you had been killed, in a Palestinian drone strike. And all I thought about, was Asher, and how... how he was an orphan." Ziva grabbed her hand.

"No. No, Tali. I was safe, I was okay. Asher was fine, he is fine. Tali, I found Tim. I... I do not know how, but I found him. Told him about Asher and..." She shrugged. "We are a family. Tim is... the most amazing man... I could ask for. I do not deserve him... and I do not know what I did to receive such a precious gift... but we are here. We are all here and we are safe."

Tali nodded, tears in her eyes. She chuckled softly, reaching up to brush away her tears. "I am a midwife."

"Oh Tali, that is wonderful." Her sister nodded. She glanced down at her cup, before casting her sister a sheepish look.

"So... any chance..." Her gaze flicked to Ziva's stomach. "you're going to need a midwife soon?" Ziva shook her head.

"No. Tim and I... we are taking it slow. Getting settled, giving Asher some... stability." She sighed. "I am working at NCIS, with Tim."

"That's good." Tali swallowed, giving her sister a small smile. "So are you an agent-" Ziva shook her head.

"No. No, Tim is an agent, but I..." She tapped the side of her mug. "I am a liaison. A Mossad Officer attached to the team." Tali's face fell at the mention of the agency their father ran.

"Oh Ziva, no!" She struggled to think of something to say, before, "Ziva, Ima talked to you-"

"I had _no choice_, Talia!" Ziva snapped, dark eyes meeting her sister's. "I had Asher to raise, and I could not depend on the kindness of others my entire life! I needed to raise my son, I needed to care for him, and I could not do that without some form of payment! If I hadn't had Asher, it would have been different, but it was not. You can only live on fantasies and daydreams for so long, Tali. But those will not put bread on the table." She took a deep breath. "I know Ima begged me not to, but I had to. I had to raise my son! Had Tim come and taken us away, it would have been different, but he did not. He did not even know Asher existed until a few weeks ago! I had no way to contact him back then, no other options!" She slammed the mug on the table. "Asher was my priority. He has _always_ been my priority, and he always _will be_!"

She stood, storming into the living room, causing Tali to catch up. The other conversation stopped as the sister's entered. Tim immediately went on alert. "Zi, is everything all right?"

"Zivaleh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean... I just..." Ziva stopped, taking a deep breath. "Ziva please, I didn't mean to-" She took a deep breath. "I just... I prayed that you had avoided Mossad like I had, and..." Slowly, Ziva turned to her sister.

"I was never so lucky as you, Tali. _Abba_ groomed Ari to be a mole and turned him into a monster instead. I was groomed to be a Mossad officer, and he made me an assassin. Now Ari is dead, at my own hand," She took a shaky breath. "_Ima_ is gone, and our father disowned one daughter to protect another. You were always _Abba_'s favorite. We all knew it. And when I got pregnant, when I got caught by _Abba_ that morning, it only confirmed what we all knew. I have always been the bad influence, and my mistake just made it even more clear." She swallowed, looking around. "I... I am sorry, I... am just tired. It has been a long day, and we have work in the morning." She turned to Tali. "I am sorry, that I could not be the sister you needed."

"You were the sister I_ wanted_, Zivaleh." The younger woman replied, going to her and taking her face in her hands. She wrapped Ziva in her arms, holding tight to her. "Promise we will see each other. Perhaps for coffee. Tomorrow or this weekend?" Ziva nodded, as Tali pressed a kiss to her head. "I love you, Zivaleh." Gently, Ziva pressed a kiss to her sister's lips before pulling away.

She turned to Tim. "I will meet you in the car, _ken_?" He nodded.

* * *

><p>Once the door closed behind them, Tim unlocked the car and let Asher rush off to it, wanting a moment alone with Ziva. "Are you sure you're okay, Zi?" She nodded, not meeting his gaze.<p>

"_Ken_, Tim, I am fine."

She started down the driveway before he grabbed her arm, stopping her. "Ziva-" She turned to him, breaking down as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Back at the house, on the front porch, Tali wiped away her own tears.


	50. Chapter 50

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

**Thanks to Reader for reviewing 45, 46, 47, 48; Sazzita for reviewing 46, 47, 48 and 49; mcgeeksgirl for reviewing 49.**

Asher poked his head out of his room; he could hear his parents' quiet conversation in the kitchen, and quickly ducked back into his room. Going to his desk, he pulled out his list and quickly crossed them off, shortening it. Glancing over his shoulder to make sure he was alone, he took a seat and grabbed a notebook. Now that_ Ima_ and _Abba_ were engaged, it was time to plan the wedding.

* * *

><p>"I'm gonna go get lunch. What do you want?" Ziva looked up from her book. She shrugged. It was the team's turn to be off rotation, and so the family was spending some quiet time together at home.<p>

"I do not care, Tim. Whatever you want." He chuckled.

"Chinese?" She perked up.

"With Tabasco and soy sauce?" He grimaced.

"Whatever you want." He replied, leaning close to press a kiss to her lips as Asher came into the kitchen. "Hey, buddy. I'm gonna go pick up lunch. You wanna come?" The boy nodded, turning to Ziva. She chuckled, nodding the okay. Asher latched onto Tim's hand, and after another quick kiss, Tim and Asher left. Once they were gone, she settled back in her chair, returning to her book. She didn't get very far.

A knock sounded on the door, and she got up with a sigh. Quickly checking through the peephole, she didn't bother hiding her surprise as she opened the door, revealing her sister, holding two cups of coffee and a paper bag. "Tali, what are you-" Her sister shrugged.

"I wasn't sure if you were at work or out or-"

"Gibbs' team is off rotation today. Tim took Asher, and they are picking up lunch. Come on in." As the door shut behind them, Ziva quickly turned off the TV- she'd kept it on for background noise- and headed into the kitchen. "How did you find us?" Tali chuckled, setting the cups and the bag on the table, accepting the plate Ziva set out.

"Now that, would be me to know and you to find out." She giggled at the confusion in her sister's eyes. "It's an expression." Ziva nodded, still confused.

"Ah... English is a... very confusing language. Asher picks it up faster than I do." Tali chuckled, picking up a doughnut.

"It gets easier the longer you're here." She said, taking a bite before holding out one of the cups. Ziva chuckled softly, accepting the cup before pulling out her chair and taking a seat. Tali followed, shifting her chair so that they faced each other. They sat in silence for several minutes, before Tali asked, "Have you settled in, Zivaleh?" She shrugged.

"As good as I can." She replied, sipping her coffee. "Asher has settled in well, though. Thanks to Tim. And for that..." She sighed. "I owe him everything. He... he turned his life upside down, for the son he never knew existed."

"Most men wouldn't do that." Tali replied. Ziva chuckled, watching as her sister took a bite of her doughnut, raspberry filling streaking her chin. She lost herself in her thoughts, not hearing her sister. "Zivaleh!" She jumped, turning back to Tali. "Daydreaming again?" The rose tint to her cheeks told the younger woman everything. "So, have you started planning for the wedding?"

"No. Not yet. We just... we just want to-"

"Take things slow." She nodded. "Understandable. You rushed things before, and... Asher was the result."

"Tali?" The woman nodded, mid-bite. "Do you... ever... regret... helping me? Before Asher was born? After Asher was born?" Her sister shook her head.

"No, God, no, Ziva! Of course not! Ziva, I love you, and I chose to help! I know I was only about eleven, but you were my older sister. I looked up to you-"

"I was the wrong person to look up to, Tali." She replied, glancing at the table. Tali reached over and took her hand.

"_Abba_ may have thought that, but _Ima_, Ari and I never did. And I never have." She searched her older sister's face, seeing the guilt and the regret in the identical dark eyes. "You can't seriously think that having Asher was the wrong choice, Zivaleh."

"No. I... Asher was the best thing to happen to me... next to finding Tim again..." Tears gathered in the dark eyes, and Tali reached up to catch the tears as they fell. "_Abba_ was right, Tali." Ziva sniffled. "I defiled the David name and..."

"No! Zivaleh, look at me! If anyone-_ anyone_- is responsible for defiling the David name, it is him. Not us. Him! Okay? Get that into your head. He is to blame, not us. _Not you_." A slow nod, before Ziva got up. She disappeared down the hall, returning several minutes later with the chest Rivka had given her before Asher was born. Gently, she set it on the table and opened it up, rummaging around before pulling out a photograph.

"Do you remember this?" She held out the photograph, and Tali took it; she couldn't help the grin as she laid eyes on the photograph. She glanced at her sister, and nodded.

_"Zivaleh?"_

_"Down here, Tali."_ _Her dark eyes moved down, to find her sister sitting on the floor of the bedroom. Various articles of baby clothing scattered around her in haphazard piles, with small pairs of shoes lined up in front of her. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she sat cross-legged in the middle of the chaos, her belly protruding before her. The child quickly captured a snapshot of her sister, unable to pass up the opportunity._

_"Are you okay, Zivaleh?" Tali asked; Ziva nodded, sniffling._

_"Ken, I... I am okay. Just... just overwhelmed, is all. I am doing all of this alone, without him here..." She looked down, gently caressing her belly._

_"You are not alone, Ziva! You have Ari and Ima and I!" Tali cried, reaching to take her hand. Ziva gave her a small smile but shook her head gently._

_"I know, Tali. But it is not the same. I need the father of my baby here. We created this baby together; he should be here, so we can do this... all of this... together." After a moment, Tali stepped over everything and took a seat next to her sister, wiping the tears away. Then, she wrapped her in a hug._

"How could I forget? You were sitting in the middle of chaos; and your belly... you weren't _very_ big-"

"Twenty-nine weeks. Just about to start my third trimester. I was terrified. More so because I did not have Tim-" She sighed, meeting her sister's gaze. "But he is here now, and he is doing everything he can to make up for lost time." Tali gave her a small smile.

"Good. I always liked him. I thought he would have been perfect for you, and I spent as much of my time as I possibly could trying to figure out how to get you two together, and then you did, and..." She gave her sister a small smile and reached for her hand. "Well, the important thing is you're together now." Ziva nodded, squeezing her hand gently. The door opened, and Asher rushed in.

"_Ima_!"

"Speak of the devil." Tali whispered, but waved it away at her sister's odd look. The boy skidded to a stop when he saw Tali. Ziva got up, going to Tim and taking the bags as he shut the door and removed his jacket.

"Tali? What are you doing here?" The younger woman waved at him, a nervous smile on her face.

"Just came to see my sister, but I should go-" Ziva grabbed her arm as she moved past with the bag.

"No. Stay, please." The woman glanced at Tim, who nodded.

"We have more than enough for four." He said, pressing a kiss to Asher's head before following Ziva into the kitchen. After a moment, Tali nodded.


	51. Chapter 51

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

He slid his arms around her waist, pulling her closer, the blankets gathered around them. She settled next to him, reaching out to play with the buttons on his pajama top. He watched her for several minutes, concern in his green eyes. "Still in shock?" She looked up at him. "About Tali being alive?" Slowly, she nodded, tucking her arm under her head. "Ziva, you know you can talk to me-"

"I thought she was dead, for three years, Tim. I thought she was dead. I thought she had died in that bombing, and I... I killed two innocents because of it." She met his gaze, tears in her own. Gently, he reached up, catching the tears as they fell.

"Ziva, you didn't know. You were out for revenge for the death of someone you loved, and you received it. It was not your fault. You were lied to, just as she was. You were never to blame." She nodded, letting his words sink in before curling into his chest. He wrapped his arms tight around her, pressing a kiss to her head.

* * *

><p>He was sound asleep, his dark curls falling into his eyes. Gently, she reached out and brushed them back, chuckling internally as he shifted in his sleep. When had the little boy before her become so beautiful? So innocent?<em> He has always been this way, because you have done everything to protect him.<em> She sighed, leaning close. "I love you, my angel." She pressed a soft kiss to his head, before slipping out of the room. Silently, she padded into the kitchen and fixed a cup of tea, before settling in the living room with the letters she had written all those years ago.

She had been so young, so scared. And yet, she'd pulled through; she'd survived, like her father had taught her to. And she had come out all the stronger for it. And yet...

And yet, something was missing. Some big piece was missing from her life. Sure, she had her son, and Tim and now Tali back in her life, but still-

She read through the letters, until one paragraph stopped her._ "'I have read books on America and seen the movies, and while I know they are not accurate or realistic, I still want what they portray. That American dream of yours. I want to live with you, in a beautiful little house with a white fence and our son. I want to wake up to you every morning, and lay next to you every night. I want you to teach our son to read, and to walk and ride a bicycle. I want to be everything and the only thing to you, just as you are to me. I want my happy ending. With you.'"_

The words were there in black and white. Everything she'd fantasized about and dreamed about and wished for those nine months she was awaiting the birth of their son; those eight years she was in Israel, working with Mossad and raising Asher alone. Though the word was never mentioned, it was loud and clear.

_Marriage._

She had wanted the marriage, and the family, and the house, even back then._ But you were not ready then. And who is to say you are ready now?_ She glanced towards the bedrooms. "Because I know I am."

"Know you are what?" Her head snapped up, and she found herself staring into Tim's green eyes. "Ziva? You okay?" She nodded, quickly folding the letter and returning it to the chest.

_"Ken,_ I... I am fine." She scooted over, allowing Tim to take a seat beside her. He leaned close, studying her.

"You sure?" She nodded, biting her lip. "Ziva, what aren't you telling me?" He narrowed his eyes, waiting. She swallowed, taking a deep breath before turning to him.

"I... I..." He waited, giving her time. "I think..."

"You think what?" She licked her lips quickly.

"I think we should get married. Now." He raised an eyebrow, eyes wide in shock.

_"Now?"_ He repeated the word, incredulous. "Ziva... it's barely midnight. We..." He stopped, realizing how ridiculous he sounded. "Why the rush?" He asked, calmer. She sighed, then reached into the chest and pulled out the letter. After unfolding it, she handed it to him, letting him read it in silence.

"We... we both agreed, _ken_? That... that we would... our unspoken agreement... that we would marry when we were ready, _ken_?"

"Of course, but-" She turned to him, dark eyes flashing.

"I am ready, Tim." She bit her lower lip, thinking. "I... I am ready to... to get married. I... I _want_ to get married. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. As a family, like we are supposed to be." She reached up, caressing his cheek before capturing his lips. He went along with it for several seconds before forcefully pulling away.

"Ziva-"

"You... do not want to marry me?" Her dark eyes misted over, and he set the letter down.

"No, Zi, that's not it. I... Ziva, how is this going to affect Asher? If we rush into this-"

"We rushed into that, did we not? We made Asher without thinking about consequences. What is different about this?" Tim sighed.

"I just... I don't want to disappoint you. Either you or Asher." He whispered; the_ like I've disappointed everyone else_ screamed silently at the end of his simple statement, and she reached up, taking his face in her hands.

"You have never disappointed me, Tim. And Asher... he is just happy to have his _Abba_ in his life. And he clearly wants us to be together. If his list is any... indentation."

"Indication." He gently corrected, as she wrapped her arms around his neck. A soft chuckle escaped her lips, and she climbed into his lap, searching his eyes.

"You could _never_ disappoint me, Timothy. You do the opposite. You amaze me." She captured his lips in a deep kiss, nudging her nose against his as they broke apart. "So? Will you marry me?" He chuckled, kissing her again.

"Absolutely."


	52. Chapter 52

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

Soft giggling reached Tony's ears as he shuffled into the bullpen then next morning. A quick look around, but he found himself alone. Another giggle soon reached his ears, and he turned, to see Tim and Ziva on the catwalk with Jenny and Asher. "What are they-"

"Special Agent DiNozzo, Special Agent Gibbs, my office, now." Tony turned as Gibbs entered, and promptly headed to the stairs. Once they reached Jenny's office, they found that Abby, Ducky, Palmer, Sarah, and a mysterious young woman were there as well. He turned to Gibbs, who glanced at the two children with the woman and her husband and shrugged. "Special Agent McGee and Officer David have an announcement they would like to share."

"You're having a baby!" Abby cried, bouncing in her seat. Gibbs glared at her and she stopped, as Ziva shook her head.

"No. We are not... doing that out of order again." She replied, glancing at Tim. He pressed a kiss to her lips, wrapping her in his arms from behind.

"You wanna tell them, Asher?" Tim asked, glancing at his son. The boy looked up at his father.

"I can?"

"You're our son, this is as much your news as it is ours." The boy bounced on the balls of his feet, giggling.

"_Abba_ and _Ima_ are getting married on Friday!" Silence reigned for the first few minutes after the announcement; Sarah broke it quickly, though, once the words sank in.

"Timmy? Really?" He nodded as Sarah rushed him and threw her arms around his in a tight hug. Ziva had thankfully stepped out of the way to avoid the sibling collision, but that didn't mean she didn't miss her own. She felt Tali's arms wrap around her from behind, and she turned, wrapping her arms around the younger woman's neck.

"What made you change your mind?" Tali whispered. Ziva thought a moment. "I am ready. So is Tim."

* * *

><p>"Tali, it is just going to be a small gathering. I do not need a white dress for a small gathering. Besides, I am no longer a virgin. I have not been a virgin since I was seventeen." She dug her heels in, refusing to set foot in the small bridal shop in Georgetown. Gibbs had offered use of his backyard for the small ceremony, and everyone agreed to pitch in with refreshments and decorations. Tali, of course, insisted on getting her sister's dress. And Ziva, of course, was resisting.<p>

"You still need a dress. Now, come on, Zivaleh! Don't be so_ stubborn_!" She finally succeeded in tugging her sister into the shop. "It doesn't have to be fancy, just a light little dress for an outdoor wedding." She turned, going to the clerk. "Um, excuse me, I was wondering if we could look at a couple dresses?" The woman beamed.

"Of course. When is the big day?" Tali shook her head, showing her ring.

"Not for me." She glanced behind her, grabbing Ziva's wrist and tugging her back to her side as the other woman snuck towards the door. "For my sister. She's getting married on Friday." The woman glanced at Ziva, before glancing back at Tali and then returning her gaze to Ziva. She took in the other sister's wild curls and petite, slender frame.

"I think I have just the thing. Let me go get it." She rushed off, leaving the sister's alone. She returned minutes later with a dress in a plastic bag, and gestured for Ziva to follow. With a push from her sister, Ziva did, soon finding herself in the dressing room, with the woman unzipping the bag and removing the dress. Sighing, Ziva reluctantly undressed and allowed the girl to help her into it, her back to the mirror. "Okay, go ahead and turn around, see what you think." Slowly, Ziva did as told, facing the mirror.

The dress was short; the skirt coming just to her knees and strapless, with a sweetheart cut. The bodice was covered in delicate scalloped lace, and there was a wide emerald green sash that went around the bodice, just beneath her breasts. The skirt's hem was covered in scalloped lace, like the top, and it left her beautiful tanned skin exposed.

"Well, what do you think?" Ziva swallowed and turned to the girl, her eyes darting to the door. "Let's go show your sister."

Tali looked up as Ziva came out, and she couldn't hide the grin as Ziva stopped in front of her. "Oh Zivaleh, you look beautiful." Her sister swallowed.

"It looks okay?"

Tali nodded. "Perfect."

* * *

><p>"Is it scary? Marriage?" Tali stopped, turning to Ziva. The sisters were walking to a small coffee shop, planning on spending some time not discussing the upcoming wedding. But apparently, Ziva couldn't get her mind off it.<p>

"Not really, no. Honestly, I thought giving birth was scarier than getting married. But then again, I was eleven, what did I know back then? The only birth I had ever witnessed was Asher's." Ziva chuckled softly.

"But is it worth it, Tali? Giving yourself to another person? Changing your name?" Tali followed her sister into the coffee shop and up to the counter.

"You seemed to think it was worth it when you and Tim slept together and conceived Asher. Besides, I thought you would be excited to change your name. You know how much trouble that name has caused us- all of us. You, me, Tim. I rejoiced when I changed my name." They sat at a table near the window, with the sun coming in to splash across their skin. Ziva sighed.

"I am... just so used to being alone. I am so used to not having anyone but Asher in my life. What if Tim wakes one morning and realizes that we are not worth it, or that he threw his life away?" Tali reached out, taking her sister's hand and squeezing.

"You _have_ to stop thinking that way, Zivaleh. Tim loves you. _Both_ of you. He always has, he always will."


	53. Chapter 53

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

**A/N: I'm so sorry guys, I was _really_ trying to keep this under 50 chapters! **

**Thanks to skyjadeprincess for reviewing 52; Sazzita for reviewing 51 and 52; Reader for reviewing 49, 50, 51 and 52.**

Gibbs looked up, to see Tim come down the stairs. The younger man perched on the bottom of the stairs, arms around his knees. Gibbs stopped sanding and went to the counter, pouring out two mason jars of nails and adding a finger full of bourbon to each. Then, he went to Tim, holding it out. The younger man took the drink, giving him a forced smile. "Thanks." His boss nodded, taking a sip. Silence reigned for several minutes, and so Gibbs returned to sanding. "What's it like? Getting married? I... I know that everyone says it's supposed to be the happiest time of your life and that you've finally found your soulmate, but... but what's it really like? Did you ever... regret marrying? I mean, besides Stephanie, the one everyone forgets, and the She-Devil, Diane," Gibbs chuckled silently, "do you ever regret getting married? Or being married?"

Silently, Gibbs set his tools down and turned to Tim, who looked up at him, looking like a child lost in the woods. A moment passed, before Gibbs grabbed his glass and took a seat beside the agent. "Second thoughts, McGee?" He asked, meeting the familiar green eyes. Tim sighed, glancing down at the glass.

"I... I love Ziva, Boss. I really do, I just... what if... what if this life isn't... what she expects? What if... I do something to disappoint her and Asher? I couldn't live with myself if I disappointed them somehow." Gibbs watched the younger man's confidence- that had grown so much since Ziva had brought his son into his life- shorten by several layers.

"Tim, have you done everything you can for them now?" The agent nodded. "Have you made an effort to know your son?" Another nod. "To know Ziva?" And another. "You've bought an apartment together, to give your son a home with both his parents in the same space, you've spent as much time as you can with him, you've done everything you_ can_ for him. You couldn't disappoint him- either one of them- if you tried. Tim, all that little boy wants, is his parents together. He wants them to love him and love each other. He doesn't need much more than that." Gibbs searched his agent's green gaze. "Do you think you're rushing into this? Maybe the best thing is to postpone it-"

"What?" Tim drew his gaze back from the mason jar to his boss. "No! No way are we postponing this! Ziva and I have gone eight years without each other! Neither one of us are doing it again! We're getting married Friday!" He paced back and forth; Gibbs took the mason jar from him as he passed. "I just... what if I'm not what Ziva expects? Or... or she's miserable here and wants to take Asher and go back to Israel? What if-"

"Tim!" He stopped, turning to find his boss still sitting on the step. He waited, but Gibbs remained silent. After a moment, the former sniper got up, going to the back corner of the basement. He rummaged around for a minute before returning with a small box, that he set on the counter and opened. When Tim looked up next, Gibbs was standing next to him, holding a photo out. Slowly, Tim took it. He didn't need to ask who they were to know the story of their deaths, or the grief that wrapped itself around his boss like a cloak.

"When they died, there was almost nothing keeping me from joining them. I sat on the beach and held my gun to my head, but I couldn't pull the trigger. I tried, but I couldn't. And even after I got my revenge... it just got worse. Shannon and Kelly were ripped from me, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I never got that second chance. _You have that second chance_, Tim. Yes, I know you and Ziva were ripped apart as teenagers, but you've found each other again. You have a chance to be happy, to have that family you've always wanted. Both of you do." Tim glanced down at the photograph, and Gibbs grabbed his chin, forcing him to meet his blue gaze. "_Do not_ let her get away. You hear me? _Do not_ let her go." His blue eyes filled with unshed tears. "Because you never know when you'll never get this chance again, or if you'll ever get this chance again."

* * *

><p>The door opened, but Ziva was too engrossed in her novel to notice.<em> "Abba!"<em> She looked up in time to see Tim scoop Asher into his arms and settle him on his hip with a soft kiss to his head. The boy wrapped his arms around his father's neck, pressing a kiss to Tim's cheek. _"Ima_! _Abba_'s home!" Ziva chuckled, setting her book aside and going to him.

"I see that." She slid an arm around Tim's waist, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. "Tali left half an hour ago. So, how was your afternoon?" He sighed.

"I stopped by to see Gibbs. We had a... long talk." She nodded.

"Did you come to any conclusions?" He glanced between her and Asher and back.

"Actually, yes, I did." He pressed another kiss to Asher's head, before pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

* * *

><p>"<em>Ima<em>?" Ziva gently tucked the blanket around her son, before reaching up to brush his curls off his forehead.

"What is it, my angel?" The boy bit his lip, unsure of how to ask.

"Are... are we family now?" She sighed, gently brushing her fingers over his cheek. Tim's green eyes watched her with a silent calm, waiting for her answer. She cleared her throat.

"Soon. We will be real soon, my angel. Now get some sleep." She pressed a kiss to his head, before getting up. Tim leaned against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, watching. As the door shut softly behind them, he took her hand, pulling her towards their bedroom. He wrapped his arms around her as they shut the door to their own room, and whispered softly in her ear,

"We've always been a family. And we always will be."


	54. Chapter 54

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

**A/N: I'm going to end this story here, because I think it's reached its end. I _do_ have a sequel in the works, which takes place... three months or so _AFTER_ this story ends. **

Gibbs looked up at the sound of car doors slamming. He shuffled to the door and stepped out onto the porch, to find the small wedding party making their way up the walk. He chuckled as Tim grabbed Asher's hand; the boy had gotten distracted by something and moved to wander off, but Tim's firm hold on his small hand prevented him from doing so. "Mr. Gibbs!" Tim let Asher go when the boy spotted his parents' boss, and rushed towards the older man, throwing his arms around Gibbs' waist. The older man looked up, giving his parents a small smile as they joined him.

* * *

><p>"I am nervous, Tali." Ziva sat at the window in one of the guest bedrooms, letting her sister pull her hair back into a very beautiful, loose French braid.<p>

"It's perfectly normal to be nervous, Zivaleh. You're about to get married. Nerves are part of it. Just as long as you don't run, you'll be fine." Ziva turned to her, eyes wide.

"Run where?" Taking her sister's head in her hands, she turned her back to face forward before returning to the braid.

"It's an expression. I'll explain it later." Sarah giggled from her place on the bed as she slipped her ballet flats on.

"I still can't believe it. Timmy's getting married!" Tali chuckled as someone knocked on the door and Sarah rushed to get it. "Who is it?" Sarah spent several minutes talking with the person on the other side of the door, before finally allowing Asher in, confident that he was alone. Once inside the room, he rushed to Ziva.

"_Ima_, you look so pretty!" Ziva gave her son a small smile, reaching out to take his hand.

"_Toda_, my angel." She reached up, brushing her fingers through her son's dark curls. "And you look very handsome." The boy smiled, pressing a kiss to his mother's cheek.

"Are you scared, _Ima_?" He asked, biting his lip.

"I am nervous. Are you?" He nodded. She took his face in her hand, brushing her thumb over his cheek.

"But we'll be a family soon." He grinned, wrapping his arms around Ziva in a hug.

* * *

><p>"I love you, Ziva. I... I can't think of... anything more profound or simpler than those three little words. You've given me a chance at a life I never considered, and for eight years, I didn't even know it. But now that I've found you- both of you- I can't let you go. I won't. I spent eight years without you in my life, and I'm not going to do it again; this time, I'm gonna hold on and never let you go. I love you, and that's... that's all I can think to say." She reached up, gently caressing his cheek, mouthing softly to him. After a moment, she took a deep breath.<p>

"You... you gave me a precious gift, Tim." She whispered, glancing at Asher, who stood between his parents. "And for eight years, Asher was all I had left of you. I was forced to lived without you... I know what it is like to not have you in my life, and I never want to experience that again. I lost you once, and it was out of my control. But not this time, not again. I will never let you go again. I do not always express my feelings, but... but I love you, Tim. I have always loved you. And this time, I am never letting you go." She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding tight to him. Neither heard the minister pronounce them married, or let them know they could kiss, and for several minutes, they didn't. Tim just cradled her face in his hands, searching her eyes.

"I love you." She smiled and whispered it back, before finally meeting his lips in a soft kiss.

* * *

><p>Once the small reception was over, the small wedding party gathered in Gibbs' living room, chatting and enjoying the time together. Asher sat on Tim's lap, with Ziva curled into his side. "So, you're officially a family." Sarah couldn't help her excitement. She stopped, sipping her champagne. "Wait, so does that mean Asher takes your name, Timmy?" Her brother glanced at Ziva, who reached up, brushing her fingers through their son's hair.<p>

"He has always had Tim's name, I have just never..." She sighed. "Never had the courage to give it to him." She met Tim's gaze, Rivka's words ringing in her head.

"_Someday you will have the strength to give your son his father's name_."

He gently reached down, cradling her head in his hand. "Until... Until now." The boy turned to his mother.

"So... what is our last name, _Ima_?" He glanced back and forth between his parents, as Tim took Ziva's hand and pressed a kiss to her wedding ring. He grinned at his son, reaching up to gently caress his head. The boy returned the smile, glancing at his mother as his father pressed a kiss to his head, saying,

"McGee."


End file.
